


The Bay

by ManMagnificent



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-01-27 06:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 52,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21387979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManMagnificent/pseuds/ManMagnificent
Summary: Vista died, killed by Hookwolf while on patrol. This caused a major shift in the cape scene in Brockton Bay, leading to greater awareness of the criminal elements and how much power they had. It's now two years later, and still the ripples of Vista's death can be felt.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Taylor Hebert**

“Four spotted,” said Joanna.

She didn’t have her chest to the ground and an eye to the scope. I knew that that wasn’t the way most people lined their shots, but it was the way I found most pleasing to look at and it was disappointing that she wasn’t doing it. Instead she sat with one leg flat against the ground, the other with a knee up which she used to rest her weight. A lot of the weight of her sniper rifle was against the lip of our rooftop, with the gun angled so it looked to a boarded-up warehouse half a block away.

“Anyone we know?” I asked. “Any capes?”

“Right now, just cops. Can’t remember all their names,” she said. She shifted. “Langley’s there.”

I reached into the space between my bulletproof vest and my gear, pulling out a small notepad. This area of Brockton Bay had large sections with no power, but the moon was out and with its light, I could see my notes.

I’d known I was coming here tonight and prepared a list of the elements I might have to remember. Langley was one of the cops the Spider unit had tagged. There were records of missing evidence, suspicion of ties to various independent villains and unpowered criminals. Our latest intel said he might have started a relationship with the Brotherhood, though that was only speculation.

The intel we had on the Brotherhood said they liked their guns, and with Langley in the picture, it was likely a gun sale. I slipped the notepad back, reached for my side and pulled out a bulky phone from its holster. I dialled and waited three rings before it was picked up on the other end.

_“Boss?” _said a voice. Young, maybe my age. If he was working the phone at this time of night, he was probably high enough into his training that he was trusted, but not so high that he could shrug off night duty.

“I need more info on Langley,” I said.

_“Can I have a sec,” _he said and I waited. I heard the clicking of _very _loud keys before the boy spoke. _“Um…All of it or just suspicious stuff?” _

“Suspicious stuff,” I said.

_“Okay,” _said the recruit. _“He was recently involved in a major bust against an E88 storage house. They found money, drugs and some guns. Though…there weren’t a lot of guns, which is strange…another sec please.” _

There was more typing.

_“Okay. Okay. Going by everything I’m seeing about the guy, that’s _very _strange. A lot of the people that worked the scene are known associates of his, it’d be easy for them to slip stuff out.” _

“Any ideas on file on who he might be selling to?” I asked, even if I had my suspicions.

_“Maybe Malcolm,” _said the recruit. _“A lot of the intel has spotted some of Malcolm’s people in close prox—”_

“Recruit?” I said, as the voice on the other end disappeared. I pulled the phone back and dialled the secondary number, putting it to my ear. There was nothing, not even a dial tone. My phone was the problem. “We might have a tinker jamming the area.”

“Must be the new arrivals,” said Joanna, her voice calm. “I’m spotting a truck and three pick-ups. Colours and men say ABB.”

“They’re arming themselves,” I said.

“Because of Den Mother,” said Joanna. “Not that I blame her.”

I gave her a glance, making the mental note not to have her work in Den Mother’s territory. I trusted her. Joanna had been with us for more than a year and she was dutiful, but sympathies could arise and it might impair any jobs she had to take out against Den Mother and her people.

“Lung doesn’t have a tinker,” I said. “Or am I missing intel?”

Joanna shrugged. “It’s not my area of focus,” she said.

“It is now,” I said. “You’re going to have your own den.”

“Is that what we settled on?” said Joanna.

I shrugged. “It stuck,” I said with a sigh. “Do we know if Kimiko’s at base?”

Joanna shrugged again.

I let out another sigh.

_Things can never be simple, _I thought as I looked out towards the activity. I couldn’t see anything, it was too far away and it was too dark, but it felt almost poetic to be looking in the direction. My hand closed into a fist, fingers rubbing against glove as I ran through everything I knew about Lung and about what we were doing here.

This was about Langley more than Lung. Joanna and a unit of two had investigated and found he was part of the rot in Brockton Bay, the type of rot that made it hard for this city to function. Brockton Bay triedto pull itself together, it tried to make law rein, but people like him stood in the way.

Lung was a factor, but he and his people were the job of the Protectorate and the PRT. He was a threat that needed a hammer instead of a scalpel.

The problem was, right now he was the threat in front of me. I could imagine the effect that could come from him successfully buying these guns and it wasn’t something I was comfortable seeing happen.

_Sure, _it could take out Den Mother and that would make me more powerful, but it would also make unstable elements powerful. Malcolm served as a good counterforce to the E88, kept them from being as big as they once were, but the lines he’d drawn made things harder; fucking Overman would be stronger and that would make the E88 stronger as a whole; and the Undersiders would have a more terrifying Imp, meaning more robberies.

“Lung spotted,” said Joanna.

_Fuck. _

“Oni Lee?”

“Haven’t spotted him yet,” said Joanna. “Last I remember, he fought Chariot and Man Mod and was hurt. Might be laying low. There’s another cape though. Young, female. I’m thinking late teens or early twenties. She’s wearing a mask that’s making me think tinker.”

“It’s always cool that you can do that,” I muttered.

Joanna gave me a glance, the fabric of her mask creasing as she smiles. She looked back through the scope.

“Lung can’t have more power,” I said. “You remember the incident around that bomb tinker?”

“We don’t know anything about this one,” said Joanna, still looking down her scope.

_This is something you’ll have to learn about this job. We can look a little into the past but we can’t see the future. We’re making guesswork about which elements are important and how things will play out after they’re removed. This tinker could be innocent, sure, but she could be the power Lung needs to gain larger territories and set everything back._

The grenades the bomb tinker had been a similar decision. Our group had still been young but we’d managed to get information on her and we’d known about her personality, known the damage she could cause working with Lung. We’d ultimately decided against it and she’d been killed shortly after while fighting against Den Mother, but she’d stockpiled some of her tinker bombs.

The bombs, together with Oni Lee, had meant Lung could push back against all the forces that tried to close in on his territory. He’d killed Crusader and hurt Purity enough that her group had stayed quiet for a few months.

Ultimately, this was Joanna’s decision to make. She’d risen into the rank of Master Assassin and she would have her own den to run. She would have to decide how things played out, decide on the margins of error and who could be considered so innocent that it would be wrong to take them out of the picture.

I said nothing.

“Okay,” she said.

I tested my phone a few times and it still didn’t go through. I let out a breath and ran my hand over the gun at my hip, then the combat knife holstered to my back. Not that they’d be worth much if we fought Lung, but they were comfortable weights.

_There are rules and this is breaking them, _I thought. But then things were already broken and we were living in a lawless world. Hookwolf had killed Vista, and the Protectorate had responded in force, culling as much of the E88 as they could. Instead of making things better, this had made things worse: A lot of racist shit had revealed itself, from attacks that weren’t answered for, to stats released showing that Protectorate patrol routes favoured suburban white neighbourhoods instead of the Lower Bay, the Rills or the Trainyard, and police response times that were too long.

There’d been a protest, a march to the mayor’s office for _some _action when shit happened, and some E88 thugs had shot into the crowd, causing a stampede.

It’d been there that I’d gotten my powers, there that I’d lost Dad, and there that it had seemed easier to just not be Taylor and start doing something.

The crack was short and sharp, making my heart stop for a millionth of a second.

“Got her,” said Joanna. “We should move. Lung looked our way and he’s growing.”

I nodded, watched as Joanna expertly took apart her gun, stowing each piece in a case at her side. She was done in almost a minute and we were off. A brisk walk took us to the other end of the building. I knew the terrain because this was my playground, where I’d trained when I’d first gotten my powers and where I’d taken the first of my recruits.

I leapt over the end, grabbing the lip of the building. I let myself fall for a few seconds, my fingers sliding along the side until I found a crevice. The impact jostled my shoulder. My grip wasn’t strong enough for me to stop, but it was enough to slow me down. The next crevice my grip was better and the jostle was harder. Thankfully I had a minor brute power or my shoulder would have popped out of its socket. The process played out a few more times before I reached the ground. I looked up, gave the thumbs up and watched as the case fell. It was an easy catch.

Joanna was more careful as she scaled down. When I’d counted, I had eight distinct powers that played into each other, but the strongest was the power to give powers to others. At a touch, I could impart all my powers at half strength to eight people, and since they had my powers, the people I’d given powers to, could give their powers at half strength to four others. Because of that aspect of my power, Joanna had my power scaled down to a quarter. The brute aspect of my powers wasn’t the best, which meant at a _quarter _Joanna was sure to pop her shoulder out if she was as reckless as I was. It took her a bit longer before she reached the ground. I could hear cars and hollering by the time she landed.

We didn’t run, it was better to save up our strength for if things _really _went to shit.

We reached the car and I took the driver’s seat. Joanna reached under the seat and pulled out a gun, rolling down her window.

The car thrummed to a start and I booked it forward, keeping a slow pace because our headlights were off.

The hollering got louder and the sound of gunshots cut through the air, intermittent, likely intimidation tactics.

“They have the guns,” Joanna said, too calm when one of the strongest capes in Brockton Bay was gunning for us. “If we’re lucky, they’ve taken out Langley too.”

“If we’re lucky,” I said.

It was distasteful to think about the deaths of all those cops, but it would be better in the long term. What we did wasn’t a science, but from all we knew, things would get better. Langley’s death would mean promotion of new detectives, these detectives would be more distrustful of criminals with Langley in their thoughts. It would mean the police continued to protect and serve instead of getting into bed with the bad guys.

I turned into a section with its lights on and I flicked on the headlights, pushing our pickup faster. It was near ten and traffic was sparse. We met red lights and I pushed past them, careful to check that there were no cars coming along.

Away from the Docks, we headed into Downtown. There were more lights and more traffic even with how late it was, and I slowed down to blend in. Joanna pulled up her windows and settled back.

“Mission success,” I said, for whatever that meant. I started going up the Hill, cutting through the suburbs while heading to the Trainyard. Joanna kept glancing back, but Lung and his people had stopped following us a while ago.

“Lung still has his guns,” said Joanna.

I nodded. Part of the _failure. _We’d taken out one element of power, but Lung still had men and now they were armed.

The E88 had scaled up, shot people during a protest. I’d triggered but I hadn’t been the only one. Malcolm had triggered too and he’d been the rallying cry for the disenfranchised Black and Latino populace; Den Mother had triggered and she’d taken all of Lung’s women and girls; and Lung had responded by getting more people into his gang, thirteen became old enough to wear ABB colours.

Being an Asian cape, no matter how old, could have Lung come knocking. It was the reason Munsin, another in my cluster, had quickly gone into joining the Protectorate even when things had been uncertain, with Armsmaster to be transferred out of the Bay and reports of Director Piggot stepping down.

“I want to send word to Den Mother and the Protectorate to expect something from Lung,” said Joanna.

“You’ve graduated,” I said. “You can do that now.”

I caught her smile.

_What world do we live in that a woman in her late thirties looks up to an eighteen-year-old girl?_

“Alpha-Century-Three-Six-Six. Jo-Jo…Yeah, we’re fine. Lung had a tinker…Yeah. _Had. _Send out word to Den Mother and the Protectorate that Lung’s got guns…Yeah. See you in a few minutes.”

“On alert?” I said.

Joanna nodded.

“Good,” I said. Beyond my gun and knife, it was another comfortable weight to know that if I was in trouble, I could call my people and expect them to be on the ball.

It was hard to imagine now, but once upon a time Brockton Bay had been _something. _It had been a trading post and had a port that was now defunct, the Boat Graveyard and the Trainyard were remnants of that, of places which had held this place together and now were husks of what they formally were. Part of its history was the Prohibition, a time when alcohol had largely been illegal and thus fostering a black market for booze. There were tunnels under the city, some under the docks near the coast, but most under the Trainyard, alcoves that had once been used to store barrels of moonshine.

Some had been found through the ages and been converted into Endbringer bunkers, but there were some that were no doubt being used by criminal elements.

We’d been lucky to find ours during the early days of our order, when I’d still had the original eight and when most of our time had been spent training and gathering intel, forming a plan while the city devolved into chaos.

When I’d still been dealing with Dad_. _

I took a breath and held it in, letting it out shakily.

The apartment building was old and largely in disrepair, with a lot of windows boarded up. There were no lights, only the warm glow of candles from the few places with glass and peeking out between slabs of wood. There was graffiti on the walls, a messy scrawl that thankfully wasn’t a gang tag.

On either side were similar apartment buildings, though these had a little more life. When I looked up, I could see lights on, shadows behind curtains. I pulled into a tight alley that opened up to a residential parking lot at the back. It was largely empty, with a few cars scattered around that didn’t have wheels.

Joanna had used the drive to take off her combat gear, now she wore a light coat, her hair tied in a ponytail. I stopped the car and shut it off, pulling my vest off, then dug behind the seat and pulled out my jacket. I shrugged it on and we were out.

I toggled my vision. Colour moving from the dull reds and oranges of the buildings, the yellow of streetlights and the duller lights peeking through windows, to a hollow blue that didn’t seem to care about darkness. I glanced around and didn’t spot anyone outside.

We went into the back, taking a door that led us into a large basement divided by cages full of _stuff. _We moved through storage spaces to the back, into an area with a lot of dusty boxes. Joanna opened the lock and we walked in, shifting one of the heavy boxes and revealing a staircase surrounded in darkness.

Down the stairs and along a claustrophobic tunnel we walked until it opened into a chamber, three shabby tunnels leading out of it, one of them sealed up. The space had been sectioned off: One part had our tech, a loud generator with wires leading from it to a computer and a set of lights positioned to illuminate the chamber; another had food stocks for an extended stay; another had the guns, knives and swords we’d picked up; another had desks and documents, a wall with a map of the Bay shaded to fit territories as we knew them; and the middle of the chamber was dominated by a space covered with training mats.

There were five people waiting for us as we arrived, three dressed in military fatigues, wearing bulletproof vests and semi-automatic rifles strapped to their chests. One of the other two was a kid that was eighteen or nineteen, wearing pyjamas; the last was a cape wearing a dark blue costume with a diamond print. He had his arms crossed but as he turned to us, he let out a relieved sigh.

“You’re back!” the boy said excitedly.

_Gotta start keeping a mental record of my people, _I thought.

“You fought Lung?” said Browbeat, his voice not hiding his worry. His gaze was directed at Joanna, his mom, and the question even felt like it was meant for her instead of me. But as I looked at the others, they were looking to me for leadership.

“No,” I said. “We managed to hit a possible tinker that Lung had before we ducked. I doubt he even saw us.”

“Maybe,” Joanna said with a shrug. “Lung has enhanced senses, which is a thing I didn’t know. He was able to trace the bullet in our direction from sound alone.”

“I’ll add it to the file!” the boy in PJs said. He rushed over to the computer, pressed a button that flicked on the monitor.

“What about Langley?” said Alphonso. He was the tallest here, broad shouldered in a way that had nothing to do with powers like Browbeat. He had pale skin and even paler hair, grey eyes that didn’t let through much emotions. He was dressed in fatigues but carried more gear, bombs strapped to him, knifes at his hip and a rocket launcher slung over his back.

He was one of the original eight and the leader of the Brawler unit. The other two, two women, with a similar large build and carrying assault rifles, were part of his unit. I was surprised that more of his unit wasn’t here, but then we hadn’t been expecting anything to do with Lung_. _

I shrugged.

“Don’t know what happened after I shot the tinker,” said Joanna. “It’s not a good idea to stay too long in one place when you’ve got a dragon after you.”

Alphonso hummed.

“We’ll have to keep an eye out,” I said. “Watch the ripples.”

We were safe only so long as we kept away from cape business. Coil had died while trying to attack the Mayor and we’d used the disbanding of his organisation to slot ourselves in. From an outside perspective, we were Coil’s men trying to build our own empire without much success, and because it didn’t look like we had power, we were a police problem instead of the PRT and Protectorate, which had much greater resources.

There were nods from the others and we broke up for the night.

***

It’s something that’s often left unsaid but running an order of assassins involves a _lot _of admin.

Thankfully, I had an office with air conditioning, a chair I’d spent a _lot _of money on, and Sasha’s Gym had a healthy-eats food bar in its premises, and a heap of unhealthy food stands outside of it.

An Oleg spreadsheet was opened in front of me and on each was a name, ranking and a picture of everyone in my employ, both assassin and labour worker. It was work I hadn’t done in a while, with the Spiders usually dealing with updating it. Often times it was easier to just do the more exciting things, trailing a perp or trying figure out the next hot button issue I could use to further our aims, or checking some of the logs of all the people we’d tapped and trying to draw connections.

But all of it eventually led back to this.

Joanna was now a Master Assassin and the task was mine to move some people so that she had a running den. Unfortunately for her, she’d been granted powers through proxy and anyone she decided to grant powers to, would get only a sixteenth of the power boost.

For me, it meant that I had to shuffle people around so that she could have the adequate strength to run operations.

I glanced at my watch. Still nine in the morning, with only thirty minutes before I had to teach my first class.

“Just better to do this after,” I muttered under my breath. I started closing files and detaching the external hard drive. Maybe I was being overly paranoid, but with how much of my operations I had, it was better to be safe than sorry. I had two portable safes, one the size of my laptop and the other large enough to fit three external hard drives, both with different keys and a code to boot.

I put my laptop in one and the hard drive labelled employees in the other, making sure to lock them. I put them in a safe in the floor and covered that back up with the false floor. I went over to the corner with my training gear and went out.

Each employee at Sasha’s had their own office, a space large enough that my office wouldn’t look odd, with the owner’s office being the largest. With the exception of Sasha, who was in Alphonso’s Brawler unit, everyone was a regular employee, with no idea that this was a front. The thing with unwitting pawns was that they could unknowingly be gabby, which meant we had to be sure to make things as least suspect as possible.

I walked through the hallway, greeting Gretchen and Kevin, the yoga and hot yoga pair. Thankfully they’d gotten the message that I didn’t like interacting and stopped. As a pair they didn’t have a firm grasp on personal boundaries and had a penchant of just bursting into people’s offices.

The floor space was largely open concept, but there were a few rooms separate from the floor and the machinery for beginners. As much as it was a cover, Sasha loved having a business and he’d gone into looking through everything he could to get the place running well. He’d found that people who were only starting to get into the whole gym thing, and were thus ungainly, didn’t like being looked at by seasoned gym-goers.

My morning classes were beginners, stay-at-home moms who suddenly didn’t have kids to look after or even old people that were told to start looking after themselves. There were a few young types, but they never lasted and those that did usually moved up to intermediary courses pretty quickly.

Bag to one side, I started my stretches, getting my heart beating and getting a healthy sweat going.

The door opened thirty minutes in.

“Taylor, fucking, Hebert.”

I turned and I had to hold my breath. I hadn’t seen her in two years but even then, she was still stunning. She was only just a bit shorter than I was, with a build like mine except not gangly. Dark skinned, she had shorter hair than I remembered. Her expression hadn’t changed though, still with a cold intensity to it.

“Thought I saw something ratty when I came here,” she said.

“You haven’t change at all,” I muttered. My tone was tighter than I’d wanted it to, my fists clenched as I focused on my body.

Slow breath in and then out.

Dad had died and I’d decided not to go to school the next day, had decided not to go to my grandmother and tell her that I was alive, had decided to watch as my house was being sold. All because it had felt easier to be away from her, Emma and Madison. Away from school as a whole. Away from grandmother because I hadn’t thought I’d be able to handle it if she said something snide against Dad.

I’d known there was a chance we’d meet, but with how large the Bay was, I’d started to let my guard down after not seeing her for two years.

“You too from the looks of it,” she said. “Except now you’re pretending that you can fight. Teaching some useless pieces of shit the wrong basics, huh?”

I let out a sigh, feeling the urge to turn away and ignore her. I couldn’t, though, because my training was in full gear. Turning away opened the possibility of her taking me off guard.

“Sure,” I said. “Did you want something?”

“Your manager,” said Sophia.

“Sasha isn’t in,” I said. “He usually comes in later to close up. But I’m his assistant, so…”

Sophia snorted. “Like I’d trust shit to you,” she said. “I’ll be around later.”

And she turned to leave.

It felt awful that she dominated so much of my attention as I went through my lessons, that my smiles were dimmer because of her. I’d left that life behind to start a new one, as a master of an order of assassins and yet her being so close chipped away at a facade I hadn’t known existed.

_Well fuck her and fuck these feelings. _

I focused on my work. First using the work computer connected to the internet to look at news. There was nothing about police deaths which meant Langley most likely wasn’t dealt with—this wasn’t my job, but I made a note to review things to see how Joanna would respond to it.

Then I checked PHO and other forums for insight into anyone new that Lung might have. A basic search showed nothing and I logged out. They could be a time sink and there was just so much I wanted to do.

I pulled out my laptop and the external hard drives, made sure the door to my office was locked before opening my Oleg spreadsheet.

I had eighty assassins under my watch, eight of them with half strength powers, thirty-two with a quarter strength and forty with an eighth of my powers. I’d labelled half as ranking one, quarter as ranking two and a one-eighth as ranking three. I pulled up only ranking three assassins and had to switch hard drive to get the standing files on each file.

Joanna couldn’t have only new recruits. From the files I had on her, she wasn’t the best teacher and her leadership qualities could be shaky. I stowed away the rank three assassins and looked at rank two, searching for someone who wouldn’t make it as Den Master, but had a good enough head on their shoulders that they could be an effective sounding board.

_Really should have done this _before _the promotion, _I thought, but that really wouldn’t do any good now.

I created a shortlist of potentials then looked at where I’d be taking them from and the holes that would open.

I jotted down to make a note to speak to the Master Assassins and their thoughts on the shifts. Ultimately it was their decision, but I didn’t want to take down someone instrumental to the running of their unit.

My phone buzzed, a reminder that I’d been working two hours without stop. I checked the watch and it was early in the just after one-thirty. I locked away my work and went to make myself some juice, spending my lunch break checking over any interesting PHO threads.

There wasn’t really anything there, with the only thing of note being a hit against Heartbreaker by Dragon and Defiant, formerly Armsmaster. From the reports, the man himself hadn’t been caught, but some of his children and his current wives had been retrieved. Most of the comments were worried about any push back from Heartbreaker, with many girls and woman saying they were afraid of going out.

Armsmaster and former Director Piggot had caught the brunt of the blame for Vista’s death, to the point that Director Piggot had been replaced by Director Calvert, and Armsmaster had left the Protectorate instead of getting demoted. He’d changed names because of a legal dispute between himself and the Protectorate, before heading off to become a member of the Guild. There’d been reports that Kid Win would take the Armsmaster name once he graduated to the Protectorate, but that hadn’t panned out as Kid Win had instead chosen the name Man Mod.

I didn’t think they deserved so much of the blame, but things had quickly evened out after they’d left. The Protectorate and PRT had become more aggressive, breaking the rules to hit E88 where it hurt and managing to relieve them of Stormtiger, Fenja and Othala. It had meant not many people thought how it didn’t make sense to blame Director Piggot and Armsmaster, and instead herald Director Calvert and Dauntless as a return to form for the Protectorate ENE.

_Which is all in the past, _I thought.

I had an hour before my next class and I quickly got in more work. Building a list of the assassins I’d be sending to Joanna. She would have a large unit, her role would be investigating Nathan Gilbert, the owner of over a dozen residential buildings in the Trainyard. I wanted to start buying property and since he was owner of the building that had one of our bases, I needed anything on him that would make it easy to buy the buildings.

I locked away my stuff again and started training the next set of people, went back to work for another day before clocking out for the rest of the day. I stowed my laptop and hard drive in my bag before heading out.

Sasha’s Gym was in the South End, in an area that straddled the line between shops and businesses, and residential areas not too far away. The place had been E88 territory before, but now things were in flux, with E88 fighting over the territory with some of the Brotherhood. I could see some of them now, wearing black handkerchiefs around their necks with a white ‘X’ visible. Black and brown men, though Malcolm was smart enough to hire less suspicious people to look over the workings of his territory.

“Oh my god,” I heard and I sighed. Two years and I still knew her voice. “Taylor?”

The trio were on the other side of the street, the traffic was light enough that I could hear them clearly, but they couldn’t cross immediately.

_Fucking Sophia with her petty shit. _

_Fucking all of them with not being able to grow past that. _

But then, they were just out of high school. They didn’t know how the real world worked. They were on the other side of the street and from the looks of it, they were about to cross to come to me.

I walked into a little boutique with clothes that were _definitely _not my style.

_I’m a fucking assassin, _I thought as I walked up to the woman behind the register. She was a waifish young woman, hair cut short and straightened, and she wore similar clothes to those in the boutique. She smiled as she saw me.

“Hey,” I said and smiled. Smiling had been the first thing I’d taught myself. A smile lowered someone’s guard, made them more likely to accept a request. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I’m not going to buy anything,” she frowned, “I just needed a little help.”

“Water’s only for paying customers, sorry,” she said, her tone apologetic even if her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“No,” I said and glanced back. “It’s just, some girls I went to school with are going to come through that door. They were…_bad _to me and I’d really rather not talk to them.”

“You’re…friends with Gretchen, right?” she said. “I think I’ve seen you two together.”

“We work together at Sasha’s,” I said.

The woman smiled. “What do you want me to do? I can’t throw them out,” she said.

“Do you have a back exit you could lead me to?” I said.

“That’s against policy,” she said and this time she actually _looked _apologetic.

“Um, then can we just talk?” I said. “I don’t think they’ll do anything if you’re here.”

“Okay, sure,” she said. “Jessica!” she said as Emma and her friends came in. They spotted me, shared a word but didn’t come close. “Customers.”

Jessica was a tall red-head who had been fixing one of the clothe islands. Jessica went over to Emma’s group.

“I might as well show you around,” she said. “Or I’ll be reported for socialising.”

“Sure,” I said. Amber showed me around, talking about clothes, prices and quality. I wasn’t one for tight jeans but Amber had a good eye and I actually _liked _the stuff that she showed me.

“The jeans are low-cut, but with your form I think they’d actually look good on you,” she said.

“You’re really wearing me down,” I said, keeping an eye on Emma and her friends. I could still see Madison talking with Jessica, but Emma and Sophia had split off and they were closing in. “I’m willing to try them on.”

Amber brightened and stepped back. She picked off two sizes and put them over her arm.

“What about dresses since we’re trying things on?” she said.

I shook my head. “I don’t do dresses,” I said.

“It’s _summer,” _she said. “Maybe a sundress?”

I sighed. “It’s worth trying out,” I said. “And maybe some shirts?”

“Excuse me,” said Emma and I wasn’t the least bit surprised. She carried a glittering red dress. “I was hoping for this in a size two.”

“Oh,” said Amber. “I’m sorry. I’m busy with a customer.”

“You two are just looking, right. I’m actually going to _buy _this,” said Emma.

Amber looked at me with wide eyes. I shrugged and she nodded.

“I’ll be right back,” said Amber. She and Emma left, which left me and Sophia. She grinned and stepped forward, a quick sudden motion and then frowned when I didn’t flinch.

“There’s cameras in this place,” I said and I gestured. They were the sort of cameras that were just mounds against the ceiling.

“Probably don’t work,” she said, her eyes not straying from me.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay?”

I shrugged. “Okay.”

She stepped forward again, her hand coming up. I expected her to slap me and leaned into it, instead her knuckles hit my ear. She was as surprised I was, but she was more surprised when I leaned in, my forehead against the bridge of her nose. She stumbled back, hitting an island with clothes and forcing it to scrape back.

She caught herself, her expression cold as she held one hand to her nose. One hand was already at her nose, staunching the blood, and her other hand was closed in a fist.

“Stop, please!” said Amber. “You’re ruining the clothes.”

_“She _did it, I saw everything,” said Emma and Madison was nodding.

I really didn’t need a criminal record.

“That’s…not true,” said Amber. “Your friend attacked her. She was defending herself.”

“My Dad’s a lawyer,” said Emma.

“Her dad’s a divorce lawyer,” I said. “Don’t let her scare you. There’s camera footage of the attack.”

“Right,” said Amber. “Yes.”

“Whatever,” said Sophia. “Let’s head out.”

They left. Amber rushed to the clothes and some had blood on them.

“You’ll have to stay,” said Amber. “I’m gonna call the cops.”

“Don’t. Please,” I said. “It’s nothing.”

“There’ll need to be a report for insurance,” she said.

“I can just pay for them,” I said and shrugged. “Resell them.”

“They’re _really _expensive,” she said.

I shrugged. “It’s fine,” I said.

She frowned. “Um, cash or credit? We won’t be able to accept cheques.”

“Credit card,” I said. I reached for my backpack and pulled out my wallet. Amber took the clothes while Jessica fixed things for presentation. “Can I try out those jeans before I buy these?”

Amber smiled.

I wasn’t about to let those petty bitches ruin my day.

***

I shopped and went out for coffee. I had an apartment that had everything the way I liked it, not too expensive or people might start asking question and I watched some of my shows, read a quarter of a chapter of a fiction book and _still _I felt antsy.

_“Hello?” _said Andrew Gable. After not knowing who he was last night I’d read his file and I was surprised I’d missed his recruitment. We had exactly two capes that worked through us and I only knew about Browbeat because he’d joined us a month after Joanna had joined, when Browbeat had been thinking about joining the Protectorate and told his mother.

Andrew Gable was a thinker with the ability to process vast stores of information and draw connections. He was absolutely shit and retention, but he’d had enough potential that Kimiko had taken him under her wing as part of the Spiders.

“Em-Ay-Dee-Eff-Five-Three-Five,” I said. “I’m coming over and I need a quick debrief of any easy operations that are on the list.”

_“You’ll get one once you arrive,” _he said.

I made the drive over and found Andrew sitting behind his computer, a dossier already printed out. I grabbed it and started reading it over. It was an easy mission: Squatters in an apartment building in the Lower Bay were being harassed by a security company. There were signs from the file that the owner was paying off some of the police to take longer to report to calls, meaning the damage was already done by the time police arrived and the attackers were already gone; from police reports, there’d already been six critical injuries and three deaths.

The matter was being investigated, but from our intel, it wasn’t a priority.

I drove over, stopped a block away from the apartment building before putting on my gear. I checked the phone’s charge and put it in its compartment, and grabbed my backpack filled with my stakeout snacks. I started climbing up a fire escape, running across rooftops until I was on the building across the target building.

I settled in for the wait.

It was three hours later that they arrived, three pickup trucks each with six people. All of them were heavily armed, wearing military gear, all in black. They carried assault rifles in hand, but I could see pistols at the hips and cartridges at their chests.

I flicked my vision and thought enemy as my eyes passed over each other of them. They stopped being a dull blue that blended into the background, instead turning into vivid reds.

There were eighteen of them, and three stayed back to watch over the pickups.

I pulled out my phone and called.

_“Tait,” _I heard, the voice on the young side.

“I need a Rioter,” I said. “How long until you’re ready?”

_“Give me five,” _he said.

“Bring me some smoke grenades.”

_“Got it,” _he said.

I started climbing down, taking my time even as I heard the first screams and the sound of something breaking. I landed on the ground and started to walk down the alley until I saw the car and saw the trio, two women and one man. The man was smoking, one woman talking to the man while the other kept watch. All three pickups were still running, their lights still on.

Five minutes passed and I focused on Max. I pulled and a white light sprouted, first it was thick slabs of light, breaking smaller and piecing themselves together into a man’s form. The light started to darken, blending itself into Max Tait. He had very dark skin and pale eyes, he wore darkened fatigues and he had a belt strapped with bombs.

He threw one to me.

“Eighteen perps, three of them protecting the cars,” I said. “We’re gunning to maim, but we’ll kill if we have to. I don’t think this is above books. They won’t come in quietly.”

Max nodded. “We making this loud?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“I thought we were laying low after the whole Lung thing,” he said.

“This is within normal parameters,” I said.

If we didn’t do anything obvious, it wouldn’t look like we had powers. The Protectorate still wouldn’t have a leg to stand on since this was a non-parahuman crime. There was the small chance that the police might agree to PRT responce to this, but people already thought the police weren’t shit and should be replaced by the PRT that it was unlikely.

Max smiled.

Pistol out and gripped with both hands. I slowed my breath. No shaking. I’d done this before. We stepped out and the woman, on her guard, spotted us.

Shooting was about centre mass, lessening the probability of missing. With experience there could be finesse. Max had experience, he’d served in the army before being discharged and finding his way to me. He was a great shot and he’d only increased in skill because of the power I’d given him.

I had the power to learn things quickly at full blast and I’d spent two years practising and being in active combat.

I focused on the head, adjusted for weight and guarded against recoil before shooting. I hit the woman at the base of the neck and she stumbled back, hitting the car and sliding down, one had trying desperately to staunch the blood flow.

The man dropped his cigarette while the woman turned. Max had accounted for the turn and at the side of the neck. The woman had managed to get her finger on the trigger of her rifle and it went off, a staccato that got the smoker in the foot as he grabbed his gun.

A scream and the man bent.

My shot sailed over his head and tore through the window of one of the pickups. I heard a crack and the man slumped.

We ran forward, keeping our eye on the entrance of the apartment building. We reached the cars and I pulled out my knife. Max kept his eyes on the apartment while I worked to stab the tires of the pickups.

Max held up his fingers, _two_, and pointed up. I glanced and saw a small flash of red from two windows. Max grabbed one of his smoke grenades and rolled it under the trucks. It went off, spitting out smoke in every direction.

I ignored the acrid smell and focused on my surroundings. My vision cut through the smoke like it was nothing. I saw the men peek out, pointing their rifles, preparing for blind fire.

Max and I ran in opposite directions as the gunfire started, away from the points of their weapons. I pointed up, let out a breath and shot. The man stumbled back, out of the way of the shot. I heard a crack as Max managed to hit the edge of a window frame; glass shattered, forcing the shooter to duck away. He threw down more cover smoke as we moved into the alley, headed for the back exit.

Getting in through the front would open us up to an ambush, even if going through the back meant we had to _search _for our targets. It would have been better to use a side window to get in but those were covered by grates. I shot through the lock and opened the door, instantly ducking back as gunfire crackled.

_They were expecting this._

I pulled free a smoke grenade, flung open the door and threw it down. I saw as they ducked back and moved into the smoke, keeping low until I reached an alcove. One man started to peek and I shot, catching him in the leg and forcing him down. I heard footsteps and three shots, heard a body hitting the ground.

Max had shot another.

Under my vision Max was a figure in white, but the white wasn’t so bright that it occluded his features. He motioned to move and I stood. We took off as a pair and I was faster. I reached the man on the ground first and I didn’t slow as I kicked his chest. He slid back, spinning and crashing into the man Max had shot. I hooked his rifle with my foot and caught it with one hand, holstering my pistol in the same motion.

An opened door lead into the basement, no doubt, then another at the end of the hallway led to the foyer. There were a few more that led into storage rooms. I threw a smoke grenade down into the basement and stepped back. There were no shots which meant a wasted grenade but I continued forward, eyeing the doors and suddenly feeling trapped.

Only one entry and exit, which meant they could close around us and gun us down.

Not getting a layout of this building beforehand had been a bad idea. Maybe I’d been rushing through things because of Emma, Sophia and Madison, letting _emotion _get in my way.

Fuck it and fuck them.

“I’ve got live grenades,” said Max. “Make this place livelier.”

“That defeats the point,” I said. “We don’t want to make this place run down. People live here.”

_People live here and you’re shooting up the place, _I thought and ignored it.

He shrugged.

“Let’s leave,” I said. “We’ve managed to get the message across. They’re unlikely to do this again. If they do, there might be more police activity.”

“People are traumatised though,” said Max.

“Unavoidable,” I said.

We started away, covering our back with more smoke.

We got out, keeping out of the way as we jogged to my car. I started it and we drove off for a few miles before something _big _and bony dropped in front of us. I didn’t slow, pushing the car faster and swerving out of the way. The giant beast lunged in our direction as we passed, one paw swiping at the passenger side. The car swerved and I stamped the breaks, feeling the strain as the seatbelt seized, the screech of tires against the road. I kept my wits, thinking about all the movies I’d watched where cars flipped after losing control, and making sure that _didn’t _happen to me.

“Undersiders,” I muttered under my breath, my hand reaching for my gun. I pulled out my phone and dialled the emergency number. The monster came at us and Max opened fire, hitting it in its eye and making it scramble back. Three more of the things landed, one of them with a figure surrounded in darkness. The figure in darkness pointed his hand and a flood of darkness surged at us.

I pulled free my belt and opened the door, ducking outside. Max shimmied his way out to the driver’s seat and got out. The darkness hit and I couldn’t see or feel anything but the car door and the road; as I shifted, there was the sense that if I moved too quickly, I might fall over.

I felt something grab me and I reminded myself that Max was close. I moved, giving him my back and I felt a weight of his against mine. The weight of my gun was comfortable in my hand as I waited for an opening.

The darkness disappeared and I looked around, finding nothing before my hand convulsed and my gun dropped.

Max looked around, his gun held at the ready before he dropped too, suddenly writhing on the ground.

_Why? _

The Undersiders had four members: Tattletale, Grue, Regent and Bitch. None of them had the power to do _this. _

Not that it mattered.

I moved for my gun and I missed, feeling an electric shock pass through me again.

I _felt a_ weight as it settled on my car, something large carrying a boy in a white costume, a sceptre held in his hand. He jumped off, patting calcified muscle. The convulsing stopped and I lunged for my gun again. My leg cramped up and I fell, thankful for the gloves or I might have scraped my hands.

Regent landed with his sceptre spinning, arcs of electricity crackling from the crown.

“Stay down and this won’t hurt,” he said. “But I don’t care what you do either way.”

I moved, coming up and holding my fist at the ready.

“Be careful,” I heard. I looked and there was a girl in black, wearing the mask of a grinning demon. “She’ll be strong.”

Everything suddenly slotted into place.

Imp was like me in that she had a lot of powers. I still didn’t know the full lengths of what she could do, but I knew that she was hard to remember and that she could teleport. She and Grue were the reason why the Undersiders were a bitch to fight. Grue and Bitch were the reason they were hard to catch if they were losing.

But I still had my trump card.

I had the knife at my back and as long as it was holstered, both wouldn’t know it was there.

“She’s got something up her sleeve,” I heard. Three more beasts had arrived and surrounded me. Grue surrounded by his darkness, Bitch wearing a dog mask and Tattletale in a pink costume.

I marked each of them as enemy against my vision.

“This was a mistake,” I said. “Coming after me.”

“It was only a matter of time before you came after us,” said Tattletale, wearing a smug grin. “Better to attack you before you even have the chance.”

“Run and I’ll forget about this,” I said.

Regent snorted.

“If you haven’t noticed, we have you surrounded and your boy is down,” said Imp. She held her hand like there was something in it and it was directed at Max. She stabbed forward and Max grunted, convulsing. When whatever Imp was doing was done, Max was breathing hard, struggling to get up.

I felt the anger and pushed it down.

I didn’t have a power like that, which meant she must be using a power much like mine. The only one I could think of was the power over my knife. As long as my weapons were holstered, they were ignored, maybe she had a more active interpretation of that power.

“Get on your knees and we won’t hurt you,” said Grue, his voice hollowed by his darkness.

_Okay, _I thought. _One thing figured out. She has something in her hand and it shocks people. It’s long from the looks of it. Keep your distance and dodge if she stabs you._

“Which isn’t the same treatment you’d give us, little Miss Killer,” said Tattletale. They weren’t even supposed to know who we were. Every loud job we’d done had been blamed on Coil and his people, nothing towards us and yet it felt like Tattletale knew everything. “So I’d do it if I were you.”

“Or you know,” said Regent. “Stab. Stab.” He jabbed forward his sceptre.

I moved forward and Regent waved his wand. I stumbled, almost falling— “It’s a trap!” —and reached for my back while grabbing for the sceptre. Regent pushed it forward and I swiped it to the side, pulling out my knife and driving it forward. I stabbed his stomach but it didn’t _pierce, _under his delicate shirt was armour.

“Fuck _you,” _said a voice and I turned, for a sliver of a second seeing a cattle prod. I moved out of the way, pushing it aside only to swipe at air. Imp, when I turned, was near Regent and she was continuing through with the motion of her cattle prod.

_Munsin can teleport himself and a large group of people. I can teleport people with the exclusion of myself. Overman, Malcolm and Imp can teleport themselves._

She hit my vest and I felt nothing. I shifted, a foot coming up in a spin kick and my legs cramped. I couldn’t hold my weight and fell over Regent, his body odd against mine, his sceptre caught between him and my back. A bomb cracked and smoke spilled out, but darkness followed soon after, pushing the smoke away.

Five minutes _must _have passed.

I focused, thinking about all eight of my assassins and _pulling _them.

Harsh cracks started and there was chaos. I stayed close to the ground, making sure to keep my mass on Regent’s frame. I felt _give _and I shifted. I had my knife and I swung it, stabbing wherever I could until the knife landed on something squishy.

The darkness started to dissipate and I saw more than ten of my people’s forms. Guns firing at some of the dogs while bombs were being thrown. Two dogs were fighting, trying to get at my people but the gunfire kept them back. One dog lunged, grabbing an assassin by the arm and shaking, throwing his body and bowling over three others.

A bomb was thrown as the dog barked and it went off, taking out a portion of its mouth. A rocket launcher shot out, hitting the dog’s side and forced it to stumble to the side. It struggled to get up.

Regent shifted underneath me, trying to move his sceptre and I rolled out of the way, coming up and running forward to kick him. He waved his hand and I cramped, coming to a faltering stop. One leg was bleeding, with my knife still jutting out of it and he couldn’t move.

Better to focus on the others.

I turned my eyes to the field: There was blood on the ground and the Undersiders were retreating. They’d had five dogs on coming in, but as they ran back only four of the dogs were keeping up. One had a chunk of its side missing and it struggled to run. Another grenade was launched and it took out the back leg of the limping dog.

I heard a scream then a whistle, the retreating dogs coming to a stop. Darkness radiated out, surging towards us.

“Run,” I said. “Don’t forget Regent.”

There were four of our people hurt or bleeding and we moved them into holds. Max wasn’t up yet and he was helped by one of my assassins. The darkness dissipated before it could reach us, but that didn’t mean they weren’t using the darkness as cover.

We split into the nearest alley, with the most hurt at the centre while the other kept guns at the ready at our front and flank.

We were too far away from our bases and we had no cars.

Fuck them for doing this.

We went a block before we found a manhole and we slipped in, moving through the dark terrain for a few blocks. I’d lost my mental map of the sewer network, but with so many of us here, we knew our way around. We came out in a suburban neighbourhood. Alphonso was the one who checked on the coast and when he was sure there was no one there, we moved above ground until we found a safe house.

There I let myself let out a breath of relief.

***

Three dead and nine hurt.

First aid was standard training and enough of us knew the basics, but there were specialisations and our medics were looking over our hurt. Max had been shocked one too many times and his body was left reeling. Things looked fine, there wasn’t any brain damage we could see but such things could be finicky.

Regent lay on the ground in the living room, Sheila looking over his leg. We’d bound his hands because of his power and we’d put a sock in his mouth. He was a mouthy fucker.

I was in the kitchen with the Master Assassins sans Max, standing where we could and chowing down some sandwiches. Eight in all, each dressed in full fatigues with varying sizes of guns and accessory weapons. Joanna had a smile on her face because even if she didn’t have a unit yet, she still had a seat at the table.

“The Undersiders knew about us,” I said, then I took a sip of cranberry juice. The stuff was surprisingly bitter which caught me a little off guard. I was used to this stuff being sweat.

I shook my head. Two battles back-to-back after a _period _of inactivity and I was a little distracted.

“Imp’s also part of my cluster and I have more of a sense of her powers,” I said. “There’s a part of me that thought maybe she’s trying to kill me to get more powerful, but it felt like they were going to keep me captured.”

“Why?” said Kimiko. She was short and pale, her hair cut very short. She was still dressed in fatigues with a pistol strapped at her side. Pretty much everyone was still on edge, with Alphonso holding his rocket launcher comfortably in hand.

I shrugged, turning to look at Regent. He was looking in our direction, his eyes cold. All of us wore masks that only had our eyes showing, but I’d taken his off when we’d got here. I wasn’t a part of the cape dynamic, what I was trying to do was _real. _I wanted to clean this city up and that mean upturning the status quo.

Regent hadn’t liked that one bit and as I looked at him, he was glaring at me.

“What do we know about him?” I asked.

“Regent, formerly Hijack,” said Kimiko. “He’s one of Heartbreaker’s kids. He limits himself, but at his worst he has full control of people.”

A shiver ran down my spine.

“Can he control us now?” I said.

“It usually takes longer,” said Kimiko. “They might have tried to control you with him. You’ve got access to everything and if they get you, they destroy our operations.”

“We should kill him,” said Alphonso.

“Seconded,” said Ammar. He was a short man, but bulky, of the three of us, he was the only one not wearing a full mask because it got in the way of his beard. Instead he wore protective goggles that did a good job hiding his features.

Klara shook her head. “No doubt if the Undersiders know about us, other will too. We’ll be the duty of the Protectorate and with how quiet we’ve played things for the last two years; we might have to contend with Watchdogs.”

“Do we even know how to handle those?” I asked.

Klara shrugged. “But if they were in the city, a lot of the work my team has put in will be undone,” she said.

I looked at Kimiko and she shrugged too.

“We should work to give Regent over to the Protectorate,” I said. “It’ll buy us a little leeway so our people aren’t killed outright when there’s trouble, and as long as I’m out, we can just call them back.”

“That’ll mean you’ll have to be extra safe,” said Alphonso. “Stick to the office work. You weren’t supposed to here in the first place.”

“I thought it’d be light,” I said. “But you’re right. We should split and lay low for a while. See how things settle.”

“This place has clothes in the basement,” said Klara. “People will change then leave in rotations.”

I gave her a nod and went to change.


	2. Chapter 2

**Dennis Cooper**

“Made modifications,” said Chris and I sighed.

“You were just supposed to tune it up,” I said, coming up for one last time, holding myself for a few seconds through the sit-up and then slowly letting myself recline. My breathing was hard and I was soaked with sweat, but the minor ache at my stomach made it all worth it.

Chris stood over me, average height and lean, his complexion more tanned than I was used to and his hair longer, curlier. He wore the standard issue PRT training gear, which were just sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt with the PRT emblem on it; in his right hand he held a rod the size of an arm.

“Modifications are boring,” said Chris. He held out his hand and I took it. He pulled me up. It still surprised me that I was taller than him, but then I’d hit a late growth spurt and now people looked shorter. I’d even come close to Carlos in height, though my spurt had stopped a few inches short of him.

Chris handed over the rod.

“Added extra settings and functions that will make the whole thing better and easier to use,” he said.

I ran my finger across the length of the rod and it shifted, more metal shooting out of both ends to make the rod into a staff. The top end spat out green light that drew out an axe-blade and a spear. The process was fast, the light filled in and metal took its place. The sequence ended with me holding a white halberd, taller than I was.

I grinned. “Okay, I can get behind this,” I said.

Chris grinned brighter. “And that’s not all. It can also break in half, both ends came make the blade.”

“Does it still shoot threads?” I said.

“Psh. _Of course,” _said Chris. “Modification is about making something _better, _not just scrapping everything and making something new.”

I shrugged. “What do I know? I remember when you were all _about _that. The hover board.”

Chris groaned. “Don’t remind me about that,” he said. “It’s like one of the most cringeworthy things I’ve ever done. And to make things worse, I didn’t even get the project _done. _I just pulled apart everything for nothing.”

“I remember,” I said with a small smile. I tested the halberd’s weight, lighter than I was used to, but knowing Chris there’d be a lot of stuff hidden beneath the surface. I ran through routines, spinning, striking and stabbing. “How do I access separate configurations?”

“Still the same,” he said, stepping back. I drummed my fingers in a pattern along the staff and the blade disappeared, sucked into the staff. Out shot a thin string of wire while the staff caved under my grasp, letting me touch the wire. I pushed my power into the wire, felt as it tried to pass into the parts of the staff still touching the wire and I held it back. The wire and only _that _stopped.

“Try and move it,” said Chris, wearing a massive grin.

I shrugged and did, the staff disappeared in a flash of green energy, congealing again outside of the time-locked wire.

“Miss Militia?” I said.

“Yeah. It’s the whole reason I went to Tampa,” he said. “I mean, why else would I go to _Florida _for a vacation?”

“Sun? Beach? The alligator cape?” I said. He snorted. “Shower and eats?”

Chris nodded. I shortened the halberd and gave it over to him before grabbing my gear. We started towards the showers.

“How is she?” I asked.

“Smaller team, not as gang infested and not as many villains, but she’s doing okay. Spends a lot of time training her Wards. And I think she might be…” He held his hands out in front of his stomach.

“Fat?”

“What? No. Pregnant,” he said.

I grinned. “Good for her,” I said.

“Yeah,” said Chris. “She seems happy, which is awesome.”

“That’s _very _good,” I said. We reached the showers and I went to a stall, pulling out my toiletries from my bag. When I looked at Chris, he had a screwdriver in his hands and he was fiddling with my halberd. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I won’t,” he said.

The water was hot as I went under it and I lost myself a little, my mind going back. It had been two years ago that things had changed: Vista’s death and Velocity getting suspended for it. Then all the shit with the Empire, followed shortly by people pushing the blame on Armsmaster when he hadn’t deserved it. It was good to see that they were doing okay. Miss Militia was okay with the move and that Armsmaster was doing well with the Guild.

I pulled out of the shower, putting on a change of clothes before we went to the mess. It was early evening but the place was full, with PRT staffers coming in and others leaving. Aegis flew in from the back, fully dressed in costume.

Chris lifted a hand and Aegis flew over.

“You’re back,” said Aegis, he pulled off his helmet, putting it on the table. He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it up from its flat state.

“Arrived three days ago and I’ve been locked up in my lab,” said Chris. “Made Dennis a new halberd…well, fixed up his old one more like.”

Carlos gave me a look.

“It’s all good,” I said. “He added some stuff, but the core’s still the same.”

“Good,” said Carlos. “I’m headed out again and I’m looking for people to patrol with me. Calvert got word that Lung’s bought guns and he doesn’t want anyone except the veterans going out solo.”

I let out a sigh. “As if that’s something we need right now,” I muttered.

“Things _are _going to shit,” Carlos said.

“I thought they were better,” said Chris. “Even the territory fights between the Brotherhood and the Empire are low. Or are my stats wrong?”

Carlos shook his head. “I don’t know about you guys but it feels like a storm is just waiting to happen,” he said.

I nodded, taking a bite out of my sandwich and a sip of my juice. Part of being in the Protectorate meant I had clearance to look at the BBPDs crime stats and that picture wasn’t pretty. Cape crime was restricted to a few groups, which meant there could be fluctuations when key members were hurt. But civilian crime was at a high, especially with Coil’s people trying to build their empire.

“I forget how cynical you guys are,” Chris muttered. “Well, I’m up for it. I’ll have to run diagnostics on my suit and the drone, but that’ll take ten, fifteen, thirty minutes tops.”

“No rush, I’m gonna eat, anyway,” said Carlos.

“Sure,” said Chris. He stood and left, taking my halberd with him.

“Leave the halberd,” I said. “I’m worried you’re going to screw it up.”

“Hurts,” said Chris, still smiling though. He threw and I caught it.

“Be right back,” said Carlos. He flew over to get food before flying back to the table. “Anyway, how’ve you been doing? I don’t think we’ve talked in a while.”

“It’s been a good few weeks,” I said and I shrugged. “Mostly training.”

“What about that girl you were going out with? Dianne?”

“Dessie,” I said and a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. I sighed. “Broke up.”

“Oh, man, really? I thought you liked her.”

“I was sort of a douche,” I said and shrugged. “Didn’t give her time. Kept getting wrapped up in work.”

“I know what that feels like,” he said. “Took me a while before I figured out the whole work-life balance. Thankfully Mateo gave me time to figure things out. I know I’m not your commander anymore, but it starts with figuring out that you can’t save anyone, y’know?”

I sighed, taking a sip of juice and looking away.

Dazzling Daydream flew it, her costume alive with the colours of the rainbow, her cape fluttering behind her as she moved forward. She switched it off when she reached the food station, her costume changing from a bright affair to a drab grey; the cape looked thicker and now I could see all the armour panelling fitted into her costume.

“She’s here late,” I said, my head nodding in her direction. Carlos frowned but he didn’t push.

“Yeah,” he said. “She was out with me. We managed to finagle in some patrol time. I wish we had more fliers to take her on patrols. There’s Dauntless, but he’s busy, you know? Then there’s how expensive it if for Kid Win to fly around and Chariot is a little too fast.”

I only hummed. I finished off my juice and stood.

“I’m gonna go get the patrol approved,” I said. “Fingers crossed.”

Aegis nodded and I did my best to ignore his worried expression.

***

“Y’know,” I muttered. “I shouldn’t have agreed to this. Patrolling with fliers is super annoying.”

Aegis stood in the air, dressed in a dull red costume, bulkier than it had been when we’d been in the Ward, with padding at the shoulders, chest and legs; he still had the shield, a darker red with a white trim, and a white belt which held a variety of grenades.

Mod kept himself in the air through a combination of jet boots and a jetpack, yellow flames hissing as they shot out. His costume was sleek, fitted so it looked like padded armour more than a tinker suit; the largest bits were the jetpack, connected to him by a large breast plate which looked like different units of tech cobbled together, the boots and his gauntlets. Above Man Mod was a silver sphere, twice the size of a beach ball, shimmering from the cast-off light of the forcefield around the Rig.

“You should let me build you a suit,” said Man Mod, his visor glinting with a stream of data from his HUD. I had a similar HUD hooked up to my mask, but I usually limited the feed that came in. I had no idea how Man Mod could interact with that much data. “Or at least a jetpack or hover board.”

I shook my head, starting my bike. It was a large and heavy thing, the seat reclined back. I wasn’t super into bikes so I didn’t know the make and model, but since the early days I’d wanted one and I wanted to enjoy this. As the bike started, it linked up to the HUD in my mask, I quickly moved my eyes, setting configurations.

The bike _thrummed, _a deep vibration that ran through me.

“I’m fine with this,” I said.

“Then don’t complain,” said Aegis. He rose higher. Man Mod followed, the lights from his jetpack and boots flaring brighter to push him further into the air. Aegis’ hands moved, a signal we’d had in the old days, when we’d been about to do something that would get us in trouble.

I nodded, even without knowing what it was.

Director Calvert had a keener eye than Director Piggot and he sometimes found out about things before they happened. Word on the grapevine said he was a liberal user of the Rig’s security footage, and with his success rate I believed it.

This was about trust, and I trusted that Aegis knew what he was doing.

“We’ll move in loose formation; we want to be seen. We’ll start at the Docks then move into Downtown before heading up to the South End.”

“Formal route?” I asked.

He shook his head.

_At some point we’ll be disappearing, _I thought.

“Just follow me,” he said. “Let’s move.”

I enabled the bridge and pushed forward. The projection was a straight line with a small bend and it meant I could go _fast. _The bikes were cutting edge technology, a product of everything the Protectorate and PRT had been able to decipher with tinker technology and successfully reproduce, as a result they could go _fast. _

I’d heard stories while visiting other cities, of capes who’d pushed similar bikes and the only person who’d gotten close to going full speed was a brute who’d summarily crashed his bike. Apparently, there was bug that meant the faster the bikes went, the worse manoeuvrability became.

My HUD lit up as I neared the point where the bike started to lose it and I pulled back. It didn’t take long until we reached the Docks and I had to move slower.

The Docks was a mess of a place, where the disparity of Brockton Bay was clearest. One second was opulence, apartment buildings that were in good conditions, people out and about, dressed in good clothes and businesses that showed that they were doing well; then just as quickly the power could be out for blocks at a time, buildings could have shuttered windows and there would be people standing around trashcans lit on fire.

The official word was that the Protectorate took care of everyone, but doing that would be resource intensive, so things just boiled down to us taking care of the people that could make the most noise.

We touched the places at the Docks that were alight, that had people, all while our course was going Downtown. An hour going through the Docks until we reached Downtown. As we moved, we stuck to the areas I knew were still Empire territory.

_“Clock, go silent,” _said Aegis and I did, quickly turning off the thrum, the vibration from the bike and turning it into an almost inaudible hiss. We drove for another few minutes before Aegis said, “_Making a stop. Meet and greet.” _

Meet and greets where when we moved slow enough that we could interact with people, but the area we were in was largely empty, with the few people that were out intent on getting where they were going.

Aegis and Man Mod flew over a building, while I had to take a concealed entryway into a derelict backyard. Four people stood there, all of them in costume and none of them from the Protectorate. Aegis tapped his ear as I got in.

I moved my eyes, opening menu and making selections until I’d turned off my audio and video. I parked the bike and stretched a little, a dopey grin on me even if no one could see it.

It was _so _easy to lose touch. Aegis and I worked together, but still we could sometimes get so swamped with work that we could go weeks without really seeing each other. Gallant had left the Protectorate on turning eighteen, started his own team sponsored by his father’s company, and even if we met once in a while, it still felt like a _while _since we’d last talked.

“Gallant,” I said, grinning. “You look good.”

“Yeah?” he said. He still wore armour, but it wasn’t tinker tech; it was scale mail armour with a silver cast, the upper portion form fitting while the lower was looser. There was the sound of metal as he shifted. “It’s been…”

“Yeah,” I finished.

He wasn’t the only here. There was Golem, a large guy encased by metal, two other metal men standing behind him. All three of them were defined, bearing a similar shape and form, with even the expression on the metal men identical to Golem’s. Wukong, a Case 53 with monkey-like features, sharp sideburns and a thin tail longer than she were tall. She was dressed in samurai armour, coloured black and red, and I saw three swords in hilts attached at points in her armour, along with more throwing knives than I could count. Last was Browbeat, a top-heavy guy dressed in a dark navy costume, with a lighter coloured diamond print across it.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “All of this.”

“Just waiting on a few more people before we start,” said Gallant. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Already here,” said Man Mod, looking up. We followed his gaze and saw them, Glory Girl and Shielder.

“Gallant,” said Glory Girl, her voice tight and her expression even.

She’d changed up her costume a little since the old days, though the styling was still the same. She still dressed in white and yellow, a dress that ended in a short skirt, with pants underneath, long boots with a yellow trim at the mouth. She’d switched up her headgear, moving from a delicate tiara to a hand the fit into her head, keeping her hair from moving too much, with spikes growing out of the thing at every direction. She had shoulder pads, large thing seemingly connected by a necklace, all of them coloured in the same soft yellow.

The look was light and friendly, something I’d heard the PR guys dissecting with enthusiasm, but Glory Girl expression was enough to keep away and calm I could have felt.

Shielder’s look hadn’t changed all that much. He still wore a white bodysuit with a blue shield motif at his chest, but the thing was more stylised now, with elements of Lady Photon and Manpower’s motifs. He wore one of his shields as a visor, angled so it jutted out of his face; his blue hair was styled in a look that would come apart with a good gust of wind.

“Glory,” said Gallant. They looked at each other, not saying anything, which just left an awkward silence for the rest of us because what the fuck could we say?

Things still weren’t clear, but something had happened between Dean and Amy. An argument so big Amy had decided to leave with Crystal when she’d decided to go study in LA. Dean hadn’t explained, not even to Victoria and the argument had been bigger than their normal arguments. Things had ended _badly. _

Awkward incarnate.

A part of me was relieved that Aegis and Browbeat didn’t have the same awkwardness from their breakup.

“Mission faces,” said Aegis, breaking the tension. “What’s going on?”

“Hookwolf is back in town,” said Golem.

My stomach dropped and twisted, my teeth clenched together and my hands curled into fists. I felt something, a wave of emotion that had me turning towards Glory Girl, seeing how she hovered a bit in the air, strands of hair and cape moving to the slightest breeze.

“Vic,” said Shielder, his voice quiet.

“Sorry,” said Glory Girl and the wave cut off. “How do you know?”

“It’s complicated,” said Golem.

“That’s not giving us a lot to go on,” said Aegis. “We’re all heroes, yeah, but we don’t know you.”

Golem’s expression didn’t shift, he had metal skin like Weld in Boston and it could move in a similar capacity, but his wasn’t as expressive. The hunched shoulders and crossed arms, though, gave away information.

“Then trust me,” said Gallant. “I know Golem, know the _complicated _parts of everything and I trust him. If he says Hookwolf’s back, then he is.”

“Why?” I said, my voice breaking. “After all this time?”

He’d left shortly after killing Vista, after they escaped from being transported to the Birdcage and after Stormtiger had died in a fight with the Brotherhood. People had _hoped _that since he’d broken the rules, he’d be ex communicated by E88, but that wasn’t how these things happened. E88 had a lot of followers and after leaving the Bay, Hookwolf had travelled a lot, going on different teams, stirring shit up and disappearing again when heroes reacted.

But for him to come _here. _

“It’s the Brotherhood,” said Golem. “They finally found out how Malcolm’s power works, how he’s so strong he can fight Fenja. He’s part of Munsin’s trigger group—”

“Cluster,” said Glory Girl. “I’ve been reading up a lot on them and there _were _eight, but I’ve counted six of them. Munsin, Malcolm, Overman, Den Mother, Imp and the Trainee.”

“Trainee?” said Man Mod.

“Not his official name, but that’s what he’s said to people he’s spoken to,” Glory Girl said with a shrug. “Works with Faultline’s Crew. Eight powers that make them troublesome: Teleportation, some stranger powers, a trump power that plays out differently across them, a brute power, and some thinker powers.”

“Yeah,” said Golem. “Well, Malcolm’s the strongest of them, and he’s been getting stronger since his influence has been growing.”

“Make sense,” said Glory Girl. “Overman has a power that’s linked to a condition. His trump power, when he hits you with it, as long as he’s winning your power keeps notching down.”

“He’s a fucker to handle,” said Wukong, her tail flicked with her irritation. “Show him the smallest sign of respect and blink, he can be at your side.”

Glory Girl frowned. “I didn’t know that. I knew he could teleport, but I couldn’t see the pattern.”

“Why you’d show fucker like that respect is beyond me,” Shielder muttered.

Wukong shrugged. “It’s a battle thing, you know?” she said. “You’re caught up in the fight and this guy is actually giving you a challenge so you’re like, wow, I’m enjoying this. Then blink, he’s all up in your face.”

“Back to Hookwolf,” I said.

“Malcolm’s growing in power and Kaiser wanted help. He doesn’t have as many numbers since some joined the Pure,” said Golem. “So he called in help. Hookwolf.”

“You _really _know a lot about this,” Aegis said.

“Am I the only one noticing the fact that his power looks a lot like Kaiser’s,” said Shielder. Golem didn’t show anything but Wukong’s tail went ramrod straight. “I mean, it’s not direct like me and my sister. But I know about how powers can have minor deviations and his fits.”

“Could be a Dazzling Daydream situation,” Man Mod said.

Dazzling Daydream’s power was almost identical to Purity’s, and when she’d still been trying to be independent, she’d been heckled because people had thought she was Purity’s sister or something. Dazzling Daydream had shared that it was the Pure _seeking _her out that had made her join the Wards.

“Things like that happen,” said Man Mod.

_Not the case here, I’m guessing._

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” said Gallant. “What matters is the information we have and what we’re going to do with it.”

“The smart thing would be to go to the Protectorate,” said Browbeat, and I was surprised he’d spoken. Even with how big he was, he was the sort of guy that could just disappear in a group, stay back until he became the backdrop.

“Technically we _are _the Protectorate,” said Man Mod.

“I think he means people with more scruff on their chins,” said Shielder.

“Director Calvert will want to play things cool,” said Aegis. “He still believes in the rules, in cops and robbers. He’ll wait until Hookwolf actually _does _someting even if we tell him.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Gallant. “We have a location, where they are right now, but there might be a few others. Hookwolf brought three capes with him from wherever, but I don’t know who they are. Not to mention there might be others around him. It’s why I needed these numbers. Wukong will transport us to her jungle, ten minutes where we’ll go full blast, attacking with all we have—”

“Capture, not kill,” said Aegis. “We’ll get a lot of crap for doing this, but we don’t need to be murders.”

_Which is why you didn’t bring Shadow Stalker, _I thought. _Never mind that having her here would have helped._

“Are we all in?” said Gallant.

“Without a doubt,” I said and the sentiment reverberated.

***

We stood hunched in an alley, a thin screen of metal hovering in front of us. Man Mod had changed armour configurations; he was taller now and bulkier. He wore more pronounced armour with thick legs, a large back and even larger arms. Even now, there were still slabs of metal shifting into place, opening to vent heat or suck up cold air; a flap opened, revealing over a dozen small holes the size of marbles before I closed again.

His drone, now on the ground, spat out three cubes which unfolded into different shapes, fitting together and forming a gun that attached itself to Man Mod’s right arm.

The screen showed a dingy living room, with six people inside, four men and two women, all of them white.

“Hookwolf,” Golem said, pointing at a large man with thick, hairy arms, dirty blond hair and a mean expression even though he was smiling.

_“Really _know a lot about the Empire,” Shielder muttered. Glory Girl elbowed him hard enough he stumbled.

“Who are the others?” she asked.

“Overman,” said Golem, pointing at a guy in his early twenties; the boy showed a crooked smile, long, bleached blond hair that fell to his shoulders. “Cricket. I don’t know the other three.”

“Complicates things,” said Aegis. “We could probably run a check on them on the criminal database, but that’ll be flagged.”

“Might not be flagged fast enough to stop us,” said Man Mod. “I could do it.”

“Do,” said Aegis.

Man Mod’s drone started to vibrate and the image changed, putting names to each of them, pulling up blocks of text with criminal records. Armed robbery, assault and one homicide for the woman. I committed the names to memory: Jen Stints, a red head with sharp features and big eyes; Donald McCarty, a narrowly built man with cold brown eyes; and Zach Lively, a short, stout man with a thick moustache and missing teeth.

“I need to get in there to transport them,” said Wukong. “I’ll have to transport you guys first, make sure you aren’t hit by the confusion. Ten minutes then you’ll be pushed out again, and I won’t be able to push you back in for another ten minutes.”

“I’ll stay behind, break through to get us in,” said Glory Girl. “I’ll carry you.”

“Me too,” said Aegis. “And _I’ll _break down through.”

He and Glory Girl shared a look. She nodded.

“Comms before you go,” said Man Mod, and his drone opened a lot, spitting out some earpieces.

“Okay, then,” said Wukong. “Brace.”

She didn’t give us time. Green light exploded out from her body and just as quickly swept back in. I didn’t move, instead it felt like the _world_ moved under me. Concrete turned to moist dirt; walls turned to winding branches thicker than I was; and night into overcast day, with the little light that managed to break through thick clouds hitting leaves and giving everything a darker cast.

“Good thing it’s not raining,” Browbeat muttered, unlike Man Mod, Shielder and me, he, Golem and Gallant hadn’t stumbled. They were used to this, the sudden change without even the added benefit of being suddenly granted thinker powers.

“Munsin’s teleporting is so much better,” I muttered, especially because the shift wasn’t like _this. _It had been cool in the city, but in this jungle, it was hot and humid, an environment that was ripe for mosquitoes and other bugs.

“If things go off without a hitch,” said Wukong, “I’ll teleport them over there.” She pointed at a clearing not far from our position. “You’ll have cover, so use it.”

Gallant nodded and Wukong disappeared.

“This place is more humid than I expected,” said Man Mod. “I’m gonna have to work on reducing the moisture that’ll collect in the suit.”

“Is it going to be trouble?” asked Gallant.

“Right now it isn’t,” said Man Mod. “But I’ll see when I shift components around. There are some redundancies, but if I take away parts, things will be uneven.”

“We should prepare the field,” said Golem, already moving closer to the clearing. “Hookwolf won’t come easily.”

I nodded and followed with the others.

Man Mod had more trouble, his suit was too large to move through the thick foliage and some places it was so heavy that his foot sunk into the ground, but to change armour now wouldn’t be a good idea, especially when it meant giving our opponents time to adjust.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Problem?” I said.

He shook his head. His drone cracked and broke apart into eight sections, all of which showed patterns of circuitry painted onto them. Like this they were able to move easier through the branches until we found our place. We stood on high ground, a massive branch serving as cover while we could see the clearing below. Man Mod laid his gun on the branch, levelling it at the clearing.

We waited.

I sighed. “It just hit me that we could have called for reinforcements,” I muttered, just in time for the others to arrive in a burst of green light.

Hookwolf was in the air, mid-lunge, his wolf form already activated. Aegis, Glory Girl and Wukong were in the air, moving back. The others lurched as I had, almost falling to the ground. Hookwolf was the most on the ball, landing and quickly taking off, leaving the wide-open space of the clearing and getting into the dense foliage.

Aegis, Glory Girl and Wukong took off after him, with the latter jumping off Glory Girl and moving through branches, clearing the distance faster even than the fliers.

Our group acted as quickly as it could: Man Mod fired sparks of orange light as large as basketballs, fast but quickly losing their momentum; Gallant fired his gobs of light; and Shielder peppered them with his lasers.

Zach, short and stout, started to sprout bony masses. He jumped forward, tanking a hit before it could hit Jen. The woman exploded into a mass of branches, stabbing out and curling around themselves to form a humanoid shape, more of the branches had curved down, sinking into the ground. Donald was hit before he could react, falling under the force of Gallant’s blasts; Cricket dodged a laser meant for her and took off into the foliage. Shielder turned his laser fire to cut her off.

“Hey guys,” said Overman, suddenly in our midst. I turned and found him standing beside a tall, top-heavy guy, wearing a dark navy diamond print costume. I wasn’t the only one who reacted, extending my halberd and moving it in the same motion. Overman disappeared but the boy was still there, holding up an arm to block my swipe. He was hit by a laser to the chest before I could push my power through, sent tumbling back before he came to his feet.

“Safety five—twenty-five,” the boy said.

_Fuck Overman, _I thought because even with the passphrase, even knowing that he wasn’t an enemy, I was still hit by the urge to attack.

“Fuck, man,” said Gallant. “I—”

“It’s fine,” said the boy. “Focus on the fight.”

Shielder, Gallant and Man Mod were our only blaster, the reason we’d chosen to attack from the distance. With two of them occupied, the others had time to reel. Donald had pulled himself together and there were three pyramids in the air, one directly above him with the other two at odd angles to the others.

Donald shone with brilliant yellow light and he pointed his arms up, shooting a beam into the crystal above him; the beam split off, each face shooting its own beam. Two of the beams went wide, slashing into the surrounding trees, but others met their marks. One beam into four, into eight that splayed out. Most hit the clearing around them, cutting into branches and felling them, but two beams hurtled towards us.

Shielder brought up a pane of blue light, tanking the beams without flickering.

“Overman’s not here,” said Gallant. “Hopefully, the fact that I still don’t know who you are means he’s not fighting the others.”

“He’s probably fucking revelling in the fact that we’re fighting each other,” Shielder muttered. “He’s a fucking coward, doesn’t fight unless he knows he can win, and when he starts winning, he just keeps doing it.”

“Anyone feel like the slides of their powers have been turned down?” Gallant asked.

I touched a branch and pushed my power into it.

Everything still felt fine.

Shielder brought up another shield as the first one cracked and disappeared.

“Ten minutes,” said Golem. “We’ve got to do more than just stand here. We need to beat these guys so that when we’re pushed back, everything’s fine.”

“Let’s take out those prisms first,” said Gallant.

“I think I can do it,” said Shielder. “But I’ll need to turn off the shield.”

“Give me a second,” said Man Mod. Four segments of his drone came forward, taking up spots so they formed a frame. They started crackling. “Okay…drop it.”

Shielder dropped his shield and a wall of electricity activated to catch the remnants of the beam. The field had changed, with the ground now littered by roots spilling from the ground, all of them blooming with vividly coloured flowers. Zach had disappeared and Donald had shifted, hiding within a cluster of roots surrounded by more flower; but we could still see where he was by one pyramid hanging in the air above him.

The beam flickered off and Shielder fired one of his own. It quickly cut through the air, slammed into one of the faces of the pyramids and caused more lasers to sprout until the last shot a wave down on Donald, forcing him to jump out of the way. The stray lasers cut into the roots, sheering down flowers and causing them to burst in plumes of green pollen.

Shielder let out a giggle. “That fucking worked,” he said, suddenly giddy.

_“Focus,”_ I shouted. “Three people incoming.”

“Detecting high frequency sound,” said Man Mod. “Careful about aim. Working to cancel it out.”

Two of the segments that still hovered behind us connected, crackling before they started to glow with.

“This humidity is fucking _ruining _my tech,” Man Mod muttered.

Shielder fired another laser, aiming for a pyramid. The thing jerked to the side before he could hit it. He fired again, two lasers, one into where the pyramid would be moving; one laser became four, all of them shooting into random direction, some cutting into the roots, there were spots where explosions detonated, fire blooming from certain flowers. Other flower reacted, letting out plumes of pollen that extinguished the fires.

“Direction,” said Golem. “I’ll keep them busy.”

Gallant pointed.

Zach appeared, running at us at full hilt, bony spurs now covering most of his body; he jumped onto a branch, using spurs under his feet for purchase before he lunged Gallant fired and missed. He stumbled forward, one hand going to his stomach. Zach grinned in his downward arc, ready to bare down on Gallant.

Golem lunged, crashing into Zach and pushed them both toward Browbeat. Zach punched and Golem hurtled back, landing in a tumble before he came to his feet. His armour had been dented by the hit, but the portion of armour fixed itself by turning semi-liquid.

Zach got up and Browbeat was on him. Browbeat punched, sending Zach hurtling head over heels before he slammed into a branch. He shrugged off the damage, bone growing out of his back.

“Brow, your hand,” said Gallant and when I looked, Browbeat’s hand was covered in spurs.

_Wait, _I thought. _I can remember him. _

Overman blinked into existence but I was ready. He appeared near Golem, his hand reaching. My blade axe quickly changed into a point and shot out a thread that stabbed into his hand. A bit of pressure and the staff opened, letting me touch only the wire and I pushed my power into it, then into Overman. He froze.

I moved my staff and it broke into energy, becoming a halberd once more.

Zach, I noticed, was now fighting Golem and his metal men, denting them, but ultimately finding they were hard to damage. Gallant, now free of Cricket’s effect, helped, waiting for opportunity before he fired a blast powerful enough that Zach was pushed back. Which spoke nothing to the emotional effects, as more and more blasts landed, Zach moved slower, Golem’s men getting more of an upper hand.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Browbeat muttered, as more bone grew out. His flesh had warped, bigger in some places and smaller in others, all in an attempt to control the growing bone. It wasn’t working.

I walked close and tagged him with my power.

Shielder fired another beam, catching a pyramid and razing a few of the roots and causing more detonations. Man Mod was firing too, targeting some of the plants. Each hit came with a detonation of a flower, letting fire spill out. This caused a chain reaction of other flowers letting out pollen that ate away at the fire.

Zach finally stopped fighting, falling to one knee, breathing hard and with tears at his eyes. One of Golem’s metal men rushed forward, turning into liquid and jumping Spurs and covering his body, it took near a minute before the liquid hardened again.

“Overman too,” said Gallant.

Golem nodded and did the same thing, turning his last metal man liquid and covering Overman, leaving only a slot to breathe through open.

“Hopefully it works,” said Gallant. He turned back to the clearing.

The roots were still growing, sprouting out of the ground and blooming into flowers but they were being torn down. Both by Shielder and Man Mod’s blasts, and the stray blasts when Donald chose to go on the attack.

“Glory, Aegis, report,” I said.

_“Hookwolf’s keeping his distance,” _said Aegis. _“Only one that get can close is Wukong, and she can’t hurt him.” _

I sighed. If I was faster, then maybe I could freeze him.

_“Guys,” _said Wukong. _“Another plan. You’ll be timing out soon. I need you to get back to the building, make a trap.” _

“And call for reinforcements,” I said. “We’re already in active combat they _have _to help us. Maybe they can bring Munsin is so we have the big guns.”

_“Yes,” _said Glory Girl. _“We can’t win like this.” _

_“You have my go-ahead,” _said Aegis.

My thread fell out of the air, suddenly not held by my power.

“Overman just disappeared,” Golem muttered, his metal man turned liquid before reshaping into a humanoid figure.

“It’d be good if we could catch the blaster,” said Gallant. “Decrease the number of people that can fight.”

“Give me a sec,” Man Mod. At his left shoulder, a hatch opened and the marble sized holes revealed themselves again. He fired, over a dozen marble sized missiles that flew out in every direction, spreading out and moving pell-mell into the clearing. They dropped down, some being detonated prematurely by shafts of light while over three hit the ground, exploding into large plumes of fire that rolled out in almost liquid fire.

“Holy _fuck,” _I muttered. “Was that napalm?”

“That wasn’t anything,” said Man Mod, his voice stern.

I swallowed. I understood the message, but it was deeply uncomfortable. I scanned and I spotted Donald, running away from the rolling wave of fired, his pyramids moving in the air so they were above him. Some of the flowers were reacting, letting out large swathes of pollen that was_ barely _keeping the fire at bay. He wasn’t hurt, but I could see him breathing hard, drenched in sweat before he was engulfed by shadows.

The world shifted from under me and I was in the alley again, still in the same place even if my positioning was different.

“Dispatch,” I said at once. Shielder took off, taking into the air. I started to run and noticed that Gallant hadn’t. When my eyes ran over our group, I noticed that Browbeat was missing.

_“Clock? You guys just disappeared for ten min—” _

“Need reinforcements on our position,” I said as we turned into the street. “Hookwolf’s back and we initiated combat. We’ll need rapid response.”

_“Acknowledged,” _said the voice, suddenly serious.

“Browbeat,” said Gallant.

“We’ll figure it out later,” I said and we took off, leaving behind Man Mod whose armour breaking off his body, breaking apart into smaller pieces that came together again in a different configuration.

Gallant and I ran into the street, with Golem already a long distance away. I could see the apartment building, three buildings over. My armour was lighter and I was a better runner, I quickly outstripped Gallant, pushing ahead. Even so, I couldn’t reach Golem who turned into an alley.

As I reached the alley, Golem had already started climbing up the fire-escape, heading to a window on the third floor that was broken in. Shielder was in the air, surrounded by blue light.

Green light flashed and Shielder didn’t waste a second, blue light shot out and slammed through the window, taking out a large chunk of the wall. Lances of light spilled out, some tearing through the walls while another flew out the window, forcing Shielder to move aside and fire another laser. Glory Girl, Wukong on her back, crashed through a wall, dust and debris caking her as she faltered, suddenly tipping forward. Wukong jumped off, using her tail to catch herself on a fire escape. Unburdened, Glory Girl flew higher, covered by Shielder as a lance of light flew out.

Hookwolf, a bloody Aegis in his maw, flew out, both he and Aegis crashing into the opposite wall. Aegis landed a punch and Hookwolf took strands of flesh as he was thrown to the ground.

Golem, two storeys up, jumped down without even thinking, landing atop Hookwolf and changing his lower half into liquid metal. Hookwolf reformed, forming a tail of blades he used to push himself off, coming towards me. I stood my ground, firing a thread and pushing my power through it. I felt as I slammed into him, the different, interlocking bits of metal that made up Hookwolf. I pushed and pushed, but I felt as my power reached its edge.

Chunks of Hookwolf tore off, his momentum abruptly changing so he was headed towards me. He formed more metal, a whir that flew at me, bigger than I could dodge. I pushed my power into my costume, felt and the blades crashed into me, the impact unfelt. Glory Girl dropped out of the sky, landing on Hookwolf’s head and pushing it into the ground; for the barest seconds I felt her aura, then it disappeared as she took off into the air.

Hookwolf shifted, but grenades detonated, three in total and they sent chunks of metal flying in every direction. He sprouted more, using the blades to push himself away. It didn’t work, gobs of light smacked into him, pushing him into a building face. He dropped, pushing out more metal to turn himself into a wolf.

My power cut out and I looked around, Aegis and Glory Girl hanging in the air, Wukong perched up high, her tail flicking; Shielder holding off the blaster from getting out of the building; and Golem, who was now bigger, a liquid-like coat of metal surrounding him.

“You’ve lost, Hookwolf,” said Aegis. “It’s time for you to pay for what you did to Vista.”

The metal stopped whirring, it pulled back and revealed the man with dirty blond hair. He was grinning.

“I’ll break out again,” he said. “If you had any balls, you’d just kill me.”

Glory Girl’s aura flared as she flew down, and I tensed, a part of me saying I should stop her, but another _really _wanting to see this fucker dead.

“Glory Girl,” said Gallant, but there wasn’t a lot of power to the words.

“Let’s not play around, Gallant,” she said. “We knew the real reason we’re here, that this was never about justice.”

Man Mod arrived, hovering in the air on his jetpack and his drone flying above him. He looked down, took everything in and I could see he knew what this was. He wouldn’t stop this, he’d used napalm on a person, and I wasn’t sure that Jen was still alive.

_We can’t do this, _a part of me though, but I remembered Vista, seeing the pictures of her mangled body. She was dead, the bravest person I knew, and _this _piece of shit was alive.

_That doesn’t mean you have the right to kill him, _a thought came. _Even if he killed Vista. You’re a hero. You’re supposed to enforce justice._

Glory Girl hovered in front of him, keeping to the air to match his height, expression cold, giving me the sense that she had it in her to go through with this. And we _all _weren’t stopping her.

I pointed my halberd and shot out a piece of thread, it punctured Hookwolf’s skin and I tagged it, pushing my power through.

Glory Girl glared at me.

“We’re heroes,” I said, even if I didn’t entirely feel like one.

***

Out of costume and after a good shower, my hair was wet, with strands sticking against my face and beads of moisture on my forehead. I didn’t have a good sense of time, there was no watch in the room. But I knew what this was. The room was on the small side, grey, featureless walls and a window to one side. I sat on a metal chair, a small table in front of me and two chairs on the other side.

The door opened and in stepped Battery, still in costumes, the lines glowing a dull blue. Her mask was a domino, which meant though I could see the scrunch at the bridge of her nose, there were other tells that told me she wasn’t happy.

“Browbeat…?”

“He’s fine,” said Battery. She was tense, her shoulders squared and her jaw hard. She sat, trying to ease and failing. “Munsin and Wukong got him out of the jungle. His arm’s in bad condition, but we’ve called Panacea, it should be a few hours before she’s free and Munsin brings her over.”

I let out a relieved breath. Last time I’d seen Browbeat, bone spurs had been growing out of his arm. He could heal much like Aegis, but his control wasn’t like Panacea’s and with how things have gone down between her and Gallant, there was always the risk that she might be called back into Brockton Bay and she might not answer.

“You and your group were planning to kill Hookwolf,” said Battery.

I sat up, straight, staring her down. I didn’t say anything.

Battery was a straight shooter, stricter even than Dauntless, that she knew scared me. I could see her going after us without blinking an eye, never mind how long she’d known us.

“We’d already mobilised,” Battery continued. “Munsin was in and we could see the field. We saw what was happening and we know you stepped in.”

I didn’t say anything, keeping my gaze firm.

“Clock,” she said and her voice broke.

“I want a lawyer,” I said. My head was swimming. We’d all gotten close to killing him. We _hadn’t _but the intention was there. Would we be charged with criminal intent? I vaguely knew the law, but nothing was connecting. What would they need to pin that on us?

“That would be a bad idea,” she said. “If a lawyer gets involved, it opens up the possibility of _this _getting out. So far, only the Protectorate knows and we’re planning to keep it quiet.”

One part of me was relieved, even if another was disgusted. No one was above the law, that was how it was supposed to be. But the possibility of seeing my friends going to jail over a stupid mistake…?

“Fuck,” I muttered. “It wasn’t supposed to be that way.”

“How was it supposed to be?” she asked, her voice gentle.

I shrugged, grasping and reaching for _something _and not finding it. My mind went back to tonight, trying to look at the rationale behind everything and it was lacklustre.

“We wanted to avenge Vista,” I finally muttered, the words a whisper. “That _fucker _killed her, got to enjoy two years she couldn’t, and now he turns up back here like it was nothing.”

“And killing him would have been that?” she asked. “Avenged her?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be that way,” I said again.

“Really?” she said. “Or is that something you’re just saying?”

I sighed, looking down.

“Officially, this was good,” said Battery, her voice colder. “We’ve already told the news. Hookwolf was caught and Munsin, Dauntless and Ashwind personally transported him to Victoria, in New Columbia. He’ll be transported in the next few hours to the Birdcage. Your group is heralded as the people that took him in. Unofficially, you’re on probation: patrols will be accompanied, increased desk duties, mandatory television show appearances and talk show interviews. Cutting ribbons, attending galas, the whole shebang.”

I held back the urge to groan. We deserved this.

“Clock, this was _incredibly _stupid,” she said. “There were a lot of ways things could have gone much, _much _worse and it was dumb luck that they didn’t. You fought against capes you didn’t know, didn’t put out word in case anything happened and you were planning to _kill _a man. It’ll take a _lot _of work before this is overlooked and even then, you might not be able to find yourself in leadership.”

_Never wanted that, _I thought.

Battery sighed. “The others should be done by now,” she said. “You’re free to leave.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. I moved up from the interrogation room, going to the dorms where I would find my phone. I opened my messages, sending a text to everyone: Man Mod was the first to answer, telling me they were in the infirmary.

Except for the Browbeat and Aegis, no one had been hurt. Thankfully, Aegis didn’t seem to mind the injuries and Browbeat was sedated. When I arrived at the infirmary, Aegis hovered in the air, watching as Browbeat slept.

“Okay, that’s creepy,” I said, putting on a grin I didn’t quite feel. He started a little, rolling in the air. He wore sweatpants and a thin, short-sleeved shirt. I could see the lines of stripped muscle running down his arm, there was even the white of bone disappeared under the sleeve of his shirt.

“They done giving you a talking to?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said. “We’re fine officially, unofficially, not so much.”

He nodded. “We knew this would happen going in. Or we _should _have.”

We stopped talking as a nurse walked in, checking over Browbeat’s arm, the drip and then walking away.

“The Gilded and New Wave?” I asked.

“Fine last I talked to them,” he said. “They can’t do the same thing to them that they did to us. They got off, but I heard that the relationship will be less cordial if something like this happens again. Brandish was the one who picked them up and she looked _pissed._”

“And the villains?” I said.

“Cricket and Overman got away,” said Carlos. “We caught Hookwolf’s people. Hookwolf himself is headed to the Birdcage.”

I let out a breath, a weight on my shoulders disappearing. Chris hadn’t killed anyone, even if he’d been fully willing to go through with it.

“Do you think she’d be proud?” I asked. “Of what we were willing to do because of her?”

Carlos frowned, then shook his head. “Missy was a hero,” he said. “What we were did back there…”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“But you stepped up,” he said. “You stopped us from…”

“Yeah.”

Silence descended, both of us in our own thoughts. Nurses stepped in and out, looking Browbeat over before leaving. Almost an hour in, the door buzzed to give us time to put on our masks before Browbeat’s mother arrived, her eyes wide and a slightly manic expression on her. Aegis took off his masks.

“Mrs Anderson,” said Carlos, floating down, not putting too much weight on one leg.

“Carlos,” she said, sounding distracted. “What happened? Why isn’t Gallant here.”

“Dealing with press,” said Carlos. “We fought some Empire people and he was hit.”

“But he _can’t _be hit,” said Mrs Anderson. She moved to Browbeat’s side, looking over the mangled mess that was his arm. I stepped back, getting distance. Browbeat had been part of the Wards for a while, but I hadn’t known him so well to have a relationship with his mother. Carlos was different, he and Browbeat had dated for a few months and they’d been pretty close.

“A striker power we don’t understand, yet,” said Carlos. “We managed to get the worst of the bone off, but he’s not in a state to heal his arm. Panacea should be here soon.”

Mrs Anderson let out a sigh, closing her eyes. “Good,” she said. “Has he been awake, any?”

Carlos shook his head. “They’ve been keeping him sedated. Too much pain. But he’s fine.”

Mrs Anderson gave a short nod. “How are you?” she asked. “You look bad.”

“I’ve healed from worse,” said Carlos, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I should be fine.”

“Good,” she said, sound distracted. “The people that did this to him.”

“Captured, mostly,” said Carlos. “It’s the Empire, so…”

“Fucking _Empire,” _she muttered.

“We’ll, uh…leave you with him,” said Carlos.

“Thank you,” said Mrs Anderson.

Carlos motioned with his head and we left.

“She’s a lot more intense than I remember her,” I said.

“Yeah. Marc says it’s because of his father dying during the March,” said Carlos. “It hit her hard. It hit both of them hard, but Marcus hides it well.”

“I feel like you still have a thing for him, there, bud,” I muttered.

He shrugged. “He’s my first. You know what they say about firsts.”

“Barely remember mine,” I said with a shrug. “But then you’re more of a romantic than I am.”

“What can I say. I’m a smooth guy,” he said. “Let’s get something to eat. Panacea’s healing usually burns through a lot of energy. I wanna pre-empt.”

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll text Chris to join us.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Taylor Hebert**

A shudder ran up my spine as I got into the room, hit by the hum of over a dozen large printers as they sucked in paper, spat it out, only to suck it in again. The floor space was filled with cubicles, all of them with bare computers: thin desktops and towers that were nothing more than a box the size of a decoder; all had thin scanners beside them and stacks of old paper sitting to one side. For all the noise and paper, the place was thankfully cool, in temperature and atmosphere, with people wearing their civvies and sharing light conversation.

Even so, _this, _an office job, was my worst nightmare.

_Confidence, _I thought and I let the cue fill me up. Back straight and my gaze unwavering. I started forward, two cups of coffee and a paper bag filled with bagels in hand.

I walked past the cubicles, spotting a few people who looked up, frowned as if they wanted to say something before they thought otherwise. I knocked twice at the office at the end before opening the door.

“Tommy,” said Kimiko, a sigh in her voice. Her eyes were on her computer, bulkier than those outside one hand on her mouse. “If you’re…” She stopped as she looked up. “Oh.”

“Brought coffee and bagels,” I said.

“You’re an angel,” she said. “Please, come in.”

I did, closing the door behind me. I took a seat and frowned because Kimiko’s chair was _uncomfortable. _But then it made a sort of sense. Whoever usually sat on this side of the table would be here to give her trouble, an uncomfortable chair meant they left earlier.

She opened the paper bag and started on her bagels.

“If you’re here for the updated employee list, you got here before I could finish it,” she said. “It’s been a busy day.”

“Yeah?”

She sighed and nodded. “My boss came ‘round,” she said. “Apparently my team is moving slower than he’d like, we’re behind the other groups. Contract is almost up and there’s word it might not be renewed.”

“I didn’t think that was in the cards,” I said. “From all the news they’d made about this, I thought it would be more important. It’d stay longer.”

“All talk,” she said. “Mayor Christner wants to seem like he’s doing something and this seemed easy at the time. Not everyone was doing a project like this and it would have meant a point of pride even if it’s ultimately meaningless.”

“It scares me that our information’s expert says consolidating information is meaningless,” I said lightly.

She shot me a scowl. “You know what I mean,” she muttered. She took a sip of her coffee. “I’m tired.”

Which was her form of an apology.

“We all are,” I said. Last night had been draining, first the gunfight with those security forces guys, then the battle with the Undersiders. If that wasn’t enough, we’d lost three people and nine would be out of commission for a while. Above all of that, the Undersiders knew about us and we still weren’t sure how things would fall.

“Some of us have looser work times,” she said, “with sparse duties. I’m on my own, suddenly have to deal with a _lot.” _

I frowned. “I’m missing something,” I said.

Kimiko took a breath, long and deep, her eyes growing moist.

“One of those who died was my second,” she said. “Anita, first person I recruited.”

_Fuck, _I thought and I was suddenly stuck, not sure what to say.

“We talked a lot about her rising into the rank of Master Assassin,” she muttered. “I held her back, telling her she wasn’t ready. When the truth is, _was,_ that she made all of _this _easier. I deal with the computers and she deals, _dealt, _with all the people, all of the pieces that mean we have an information network.”

“Was she the only person you trained?” I asked. “You have the biggest brunt of the assassins—”

Kimiko shook her head. “You’re missing it,” she said. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. She took a bite of her bagel, chewed mechanically. “It’s not about _that, _just…losing someone.”

I didn’t say anything. I’d lost Dad and that had hurt, but I’d used it to drive me forward. Since then, I’d lost a few people, assassins that had been cocky and picked the wrong fight or jobs that hadn’t pan out. But they weren’t the same sort of loss as when I’d lost Dad.

“I need some time,” said Kimiko. She sat straighter, the emotion gone. “To deal with last night, then I’ll start prepping.”

That felt like a cue for me to leave.

“There’s something else,” I said. Kimiko’s expression flickered before it evened out, turning expectant. “Joanna’s unit is going to need people. I think it would make sense for the bulk of her ranks to be filled up with people from the Spiders and the Prowlers. I’m going to need you to put people forward. People with good heads on their shoulders, but people you won’t miss.”

“Sure,” she said.

I nodded and stood, walking out again, watching as people worked.

About a year ago, these people would likely have been unemployed, filling the ranks of the men and women that saw it better to become minions than being unable to pay their rents. A burst pipe at a courthouse had destroyed some court documents and in response, the Mayor along with Richard Stansfield had started a project that would digitise government records. 

Most of the people here were older, early thirties, and almost all people of colour. _Our _doing.

Computer literacy had been a large requirement of the project, which had meant unskilled workers had been out. We’d stepped in, quickly opened computer courses at very low prices, then inflated the records of money we received to clean some of our cash. We’d browbeat all the con artists that’d sprouted, taking people’s money and giving them worthless computer certificates. Then we’d used connections Kimiko and her unit had in digital firms to fast track people with our certificates being accepted in job positions.

That had largely dried out, at least the initial rush, but there were still people who wanted to be computer literate what with most jobs being in IT or tech in Brockton Bay. Not that our meagre certificates would help them with that. But it was a start.

I stepped outside, catching the warmth of the sun as it found spaces to pass past the tall buildings that dominated every block of the North End. Here, you could almost forget how shitty Brockton Bay was for everyone else. A mix of old and new buildings, people dressed in sharp suits, carrying expensive cases, others were young, wearing bright, colourful clothing, almost _screaming _that they were game developers; it wasn’t even out of place to see the more expensive cars.

Dow, Callahan & Conrad’s office building was shorter than the surrounding buildings, made of old stone that looked a dull brown, but there was a _stateliness _to it that fit in quite well with the opulence of the area.

It was noon and my next class would start in an hour. I started walking back to the gym, taking my time while looking through my phone for the latest news.

Hookwolf had been caught last night. I moved through sites until I found video footage of an interview with Gallant from the Gilded, Browbeat’s team. He explained getting word of an appearance of Hookwolf, then teaming up with Glory Girl and Shielder from New Wave, and Aegis, Man Mod and Clockblocker from the Protectorate.

Along with Hookwolf, two Nazis from out of town had also been caught, while Cricket and Overman had escaped.

When I checked other news sources, this was front page news, which meant I had to _search _before finding anything about our team fighting the Undersiders. Just mention of a fight between the Undersiders and Coil’s Crew, with a car left in the wreckage. There were no reports on the shootout at the tenement.

I made a mental note to have Kimiko ask around about that. Hopefully we’d get a sense of the people during the shoot out and who they were working for. Then we could use that to stamp them down.

The Protectorate would be focusing on Hookwolf_, _on the justice for Vista and they might not think about all the evidence we’d left or looking at witness reports of the fight. It even made more sense to get a leg up on the people we had in the police department, strengthen that relationship by giving them Regent.

I thought about sending the text to Kimiko before I stopped. She was still dealing with losing her second and forcing her to think about this would be a service.

I sent the text to Alphonso and got the okay.

_Oh fuck me, _I thought as I rounded on the entrance to Sasha’s, finding Sophia standing there, her arms crossed and a smirk touching her face as she saw me.

A part of me thought about turning, coming in through the back, but a larger part of me didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. I walked forward, head straight and using my peripheral vision to keep track of her. She had a plaster over her nose and that made my heart swell.

She followed me as I got in, following me into the back to my office. She was too close for my liking as I unlocked the door, opened it and went in.

“Nice,” she said.

I shrugged off my backpack, being careful not to throw around the hard drives. There were backups, but that would mean a trip to the Trainyard and that would mean work not getting done.

“What do you want, Sophia?” I said.

“I want a job,” she said and she shrugged.

“And you’re asking _me _that?” I said, letting out a little snort. “In which world do you see that happening? Because I fucking hate you.”

“Well, I don’t fucking care about you,” she said, smirking.

“You say that after all the trouble you went through yesterday to get to me,” I said, settling back. “I’d almost think you have a crush on me or something.”

“You’re the one who’s supposed to be the dyke, right?” she said. “Your little crush on Emma, following her around like a puppy even when she was kicking you to the curb—”

I let out a sigh and leaned a little to the left, starting to boot up my computer. I watched that, tuning Sophia out as she spoke. The monitor came on, flashing a circular logo with a cursive ‘I’ at its centre before switching to my desktop. There were no icons on it, just a background of the Triumvirate, all of them with heroic poses.

Sophia slammed her hand on the table.

I looked up at her. “You’re still here?”

“I’m gonna fucking ruin this place if you don’t give me this job,” she said and shrugged.

“Really?” I said.

“I was talking to Gretchen, she likes to run her mouth that one, which is good for me because it meant stuff started to make sense. This place wasn’t being used until over a year ago, then Sasha bought it and from the get-go you were there.”

I kept my body loose, a brow raised and my expression bored.

“Okay,” I said.

“You were sixteen,” she said. “Maybe seventeen. And I’m willing to bet everything Sasha didn’t fill out Youth Employment Certificates.”

“So what is this?” I said. “You’re blackmailing me to give you a job?”

“Aren’t you a genius,” she said, wearing an ugly grin.

“Okay,” I said. “You have the job.” I pressed a few times, opening folders before printing out a sheet of paper. “What are you thinking of doing?”

She frowned, then shrugged. “Got some martial arts training,” she said. “Could do that.”

I nodded. “You’ll have to deal with kids,” I said, clicking and pulling up info Sasha had compiled about potential regions to expand if we had more people. “We’ve gotten a few parents that want their kids to have after-school activities.”

“Not dealing with some snot-nosed brats,” she said.

I shrugged. “Take it or leave it, I don’t really care,” I said. “Children are a large part of the market we can have. Teenagers and some adults prefer the DMDA since the rumour started that Uber works there. Maybe you can build rep, but…” I shrugged again.

“Whatever,” she muttered.

“You’ll fill out the form, bring copies of everything as detailed. You’ll bring it in tomorrow and we’ll start things on our end. I’ll talk to Sasha so he can call some people, have you teach a class, see how you do.”

“And if I don’t do well?” she said.

“You don’t get the job,” I said. “I mean from that point on you _could _do the stupid thing you’re talking about. But then you’d look like a vindictive employee.” 

I could see the edge of a frown in her smug grin.

“Anything else?”

“Your boss going to be okay with this? You won’t have to explain anything?” she said.

“Sasha trusts me,” I said. “You can leave now.”

She sat for a few seconds before she got up, moving so fast that her chair toppled over. She didn’t fix it as she left.

_Bitch. _

But a bitch I’d have to work with. There was so much going on that I didn’t really think anything would come out of Sasha illegally employing me. There was a jobs shortage in Brockton Bay and if it made news that the few businesses that existed were being killed by red tape, there’d be another round of protests. But in letting Sophia go forward with her threat, it opened the possibility someone might look at the wrong thing and they might be interested in our books.

I pulled out my phone, searched for her social media accounts. She didn’t have any, but Emma had a twitter account and there were pictures of her, Madison and Sophia there. I pulled up Andrew’s number:

**Me: **Black girl—Sophia Hess. Have a Prowler follow her, take pictures, anything incriminating.

**Andrew: **Priority?

The priorities were one to five, with something requiring more attention the closer it was to one. I felt the urge to set it at three, but then that would be an abuse of power. The tenement last night had been priority three by dint of all the things we were juggling, the people we were watching to make sure we kept making money.

Sophia was nothing compared to that.

**Me: **Priority five.

**Andrew: **Set. I’ll update as needed.

I turned away from that, checking the time. Ten more minutes before class started. Better not to do anything else before getting to my classes. They were uneventful, two back to back classes before I decided to take a bite to eat and left for the day.

I had eight, now nine, Den Masters and each of the had their own units with their own areas of focus. Kimiko was the leader of the Spiders, she received and compiled a lot of our data: keeping an employee list, both assassins and non; a list of the people who were working for or with us in a non-official capacity; all the people we were blackmailing as well what we had on them; and other miscellaneous pieces of data that _might _be useful in the future.

At her discretion, her unit either compiled information supplied by the other units, or they sought out specifics sets of information themselves. She had close ties to the Prowlers and Daredevils, though, by dint of those two units having a good grasp of collecting information.

Manuel was the leader of the Daredevils, our resident _thieves _and I found him leaning against a wall beside a small ice-cream shop, licking at a cone, his eye tracking a swarm of people as they went about their day.

He smiled as he saw me. “I thought you were supposed to be laying low,” he said. He was about my height, slightly shorter because he had an easy slouch to him; he had sharp features, a large nose that fit the shape of his face well; he was clean shaven, hair messily styled.

He blended in quite well, clothing leaning towards expensive but not so much that they’d attract attention.

“Needed to talk,” I said.

“You want to steal some of my people,” he said, his eyes straying away from me, cutting to across the street where Parian’s fashion studio sat, a crowd of people starting to gather in front.

“Kimiko?” I said.

“Nah,” he said. “But I expected it. Joanna got promoted. She’ll have to fill ranks.”

I hummed. “I hope that means you already have a list,” I said.

“You can take the plebs,” he said. “I haven’t bent over backward training them yet.”

I snorted. “You say that like this is so hard,” I said. I turned to look at the crowd. I had eight powers, two of them stranger powers. One I used constantly, hiding a knife holstered at my leg every time I got out—_and maybe I should keep a gun since the thing with the Undersiders—_the other kicked in with the number of people I had around me.

“Not all of us are like you,” he said. “Can’t just walk into a crowd of three people, _loom _and hope they’ll miss it. We have to work _with _the power.”

“Crowd that big should be easy to steal from, though.”

“This is about money more than skill,” he said. “I’ve got five people there, should be able to skim a few cards.”

“Remember our creed,” I said.

He gave me a look. “You say that like I don’t know what we’re _for,” _he said. “Anyway, anyone who can afford this, can spare a few dollars. We’ll only take enough.”

I nodded. “I trust your judgement. What’s going on here, anyway? More people than usual.”

“Parian’s supposed to hold a press conference soon,” he said.

“She might finally be revealing her identity,” I said. “People have been talking about it for a while.”

“Ballsy,” said Manuel. “’Least she’s white. No trouble from E88.”

“That didn’t help New Wave,” I said.

“Different things,” he said. “They’re heroes and she’s not. When the Nazis talk, they call her a sign that their capes are civilised. No cape like us is working with the community. Which is just ignoring Aegis, Browbeat, Chariot, Wukong and god knows how many others are not white and doing good work.”

“If they were smart, they wouldn’t be Nazis,” I said.

Manuel snorted. “If only that were true,” he said. “They’re smart enough to be good at causing trouble.”

More people started to get close, journalists with cameras and some holding portable microphones. It was hard to see, but I spotted activity from up front, a large bear that walked out of the doors carrying Parian. She regularly changed the dress part of her costume, today I wasn’t sure what the style of what she was wearing was, but it was in red.

People rushed in, others stopping what they were doing.

Three others walked out after her, dressed in good looking clothes, all of them wearing masks. Parian had a team of a dozen artists working for her and all of them wore masks, there was rumour that some were capes but that hadn’t been confirmed.

I scanned the crowd instead of watching Parian, and after a few seconds of not spotting anything I switched visions, seeing the white figures as they moved through the crowd, stopping only for seconds at a time before moving on. 

As long as they didn’t attract attention while they moved within the crowd, they’d be invisible.

“What’s the plan with the Undersiders?” Manuel asked. “Max is still hurt because of them.”

“What _can _we do that’s not calling attention to ourselves?” I said.

“But they already know about us, know about _you. _It’d be smart to hit them before they regroup. We managed to catch Grue with a few bullets last night, that’s time his power won’t be in the equation.”

“Let’s see how things play out,” I said. “Tattletale knew about us and I’m still wary of her power. They’ve been operating more than two years and we still don’t know a lot about it except it makes the Undersiders slippery. For all we know, this might be some thinker trap.”

Manuel shrugged. “You’re the boss. I’ll get you the list by the end of the day.”

“Thanks,” I said and nodded. I pulled out my phone. Searching sites until I found a stream with Parian. I didn’t have my earphones and I didn’t listen to the sound. Instead I watched as she talked, until she finally took off her white mask and revealed a brown girl beneath.

Manuel broke out into raucous laughter. “Oh, the Nazis are gonna have a fuckin’ fit.”

“Especially after the whole Hookwolf thing,” I said. “I hope the Protectorate is on the ball.”

***

My night was boring, a late movie before taking a cab to my apartment. I looked over the news for a bit, moving from forum to forum for anything interesting before I went to bed. Kimiko and Manuel had compiled a list of people they could give me, telling the other Den Masters which meant I hadn’t needed to visit each personally.

It was more efficient that way, but I’d _wanted _to visit each of them. The matter of Andrew Gable was still on my mind. How I’d sort of just let things run themselves, except in the cases where I was tagging along on a mission. I’d needed to touch base, see where heads were and how everyone was dealing.

Having that taken away made my day emptier.

It took me a while to sleep, thoughts about the Undersiders and how they’d known about us, how they’d found me and Max in the first place; then trying to consider Brockton Bay and how to help it move forward. We were already stealing a _lot _of money from the unsavoury sorts: blackmailing hedge fund managers that stole money from their clients, balancing that with trying to have them recoup pension funds instead of just exposing them and having people to lose all that money; stealing artwork and selling them on the black market; blackmailing people in positions of power either for quick cash or pushing things we wanted.

But even with all that, it wasn’t enough.

There were people squatting in abandoned buildings and warehouses if they were lucky and sleeping on the streets if they weren’t. The Merchants as a gang had disappeared: Skidmark and Mush had been arrested; Squealer worked for Den Mother; Trainwreck had disappeared; and Whirlygig kept a low profile most of the time. But there was still a drug epidemic, with cocaine hitting suburban neighbourhoods and a proliferation of pot.

_One problem at a time, _was my last thought before I fell asleep.

***

There were seven columns of light around me. I looked around, frowning as bits of data filled in. The more time that passed, the more I knew what _this _was. There weren’t seven, but _eight, _and one was mine. The others were my cluster mates, all of them hidden as we waited to know who would get the boost for the next week.

I knew what this was, most clusters had their shtick, an oddity between power and people. In some it was the kiss-kill dynamic, where cluster mates either ended up together, or they trended towards killing each other; in a few cases there were personality shifts, being able to take the bad parts of yourself, cast them out and have them grabbed by the others; but from most there was this. Where something would happen and one in the cluster would be more powerful than the others.

One column disappeared, directly opposite me.

It hit me how there were eight of us, eight columns of light hiding us from each other. I’d thought for the longest time that our eighth was dead, that Overman had likely killed him. But now, on seeing the columns of light. I knew that they were alive.

Another column went out, then another and another until only two were left. Mine and another to my left. The light around me flicked off, leaving only one of us still wreathed in light.

***

My classes usually started near noon, which meant I never really had to wake up early. I showered and ate, noted that my fridge was starting to empty and I made a list, setting a reminder on my phone for after work.

I flicked on my computer, which took longer than it usually did and I checked the list of names I’d been given, seeing who would fit the position and then swapping them around. It was two hours’ work and I sent the message to the others, telling them which people would be moved.

Next it would be a matter of budgets. Joanna would want her own den which would mean paying rent, supplies and other stuff. All of it would be taking money we could otherwise donate to a soup kitchen.

I pushed the sigh away, pushed _work _away and flicked on the television. I moved through channels, not really watching anything before I stopped, catching the end of a morning talk show with Clockblocker as a guest, discussing their recent capture of Hookwolf and what this would mean for E88 going forward.

Clockblocker was charismatic, but the show didn’t really offer anything new, a little news, but mostly exploring _him _as a figure in the Protectorate. Trying to get a sense of the move from Ward to the big guns.

I went to get my car, then remembered that I didn’t have one because the fucking Undersiders had destroyed it. Thankfully it wasn’t in my name, we’d used a stolen identity to register everything and I felt sorry for whoever would be connected to the car, but it wasn’t anything we could do anything about. I made another note to buy a new car.

For now, I had to take a cab.

Sophia hadn’t arrived, which I was grateful for, it meant getting my morning classes out of the way and a large chunk of time free before my early evening classes. I got out again. We had three used car dealerships and we used the same practice as the gym except with larger sums of money. People would come in and negotiate down, when we filed the invoice in our books, it would be at the original price or slightly higher.

There were five salespeople there when I arrived, one of them with a customer. I flicked my vision and saw that he wasn’t one of my assassins. A sales rep came from me, but the manager got out of her office and waved him off. The sales rep was one of mine.

“Expected you,” she said. “Heard your car was totalled.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’d like another truck, if you can fast track it.”

She shook her head. “Can’t.” She motioned to the sales rep who was talking to his customer, a weedy guy with shifty eyes. “He’s a fed.”

I frowned. “Problem?” I said.

“Not sure yet,” she said. “He hasn’t tried anything, but he will. Some of ours were visited by feds too. Prepositioning to move money through us. There’ve been two arrests already, but the feds are keeping it quiet.”

“None of ours,” I said.

“No,” she said. “We don’t need any more dirty money.”

I noticed the man glancing our way every few seconds and made sure not to look in his direction. Buying a car while he was here would be suspicious, better to look like I was browsing for an eighteenth birthday present.

“I think I’ll come back later, then,” I said. “When this place isn’t so hot.”

“Sure,” she said. “Keep on alert, though. He might have a tail. Our finances are too good as is and he might be looking for any reason to get a warrant to search us.”

I nodded and left, looking around as nondescriptly as I could while I hailed a cab. No one followed me.

Sophia had arrived at some point to drop off her documents while I’d been out, leaving her number so we’d call when everything was set up. I processed everything as much as I could before handing them off to Sasha. I taught my final class before I was off for the day, heading back home to do nothing because the Undersiders were still a threat and it was better if I didn’t do any active missions.

***

A week passed and I was at wits end.

Nothing had happened with the Undersiders. Regent was being held by the Protectorate and legal proceedings had started, while the other Undersiders were silent; and we still hadn’t been able to find anything on the guys that had hit the tenement in the Lower Bay.

The only thing of worth in my days seemed to be getting to work and dealing with Sophia, which was getting easier because her schedule clustered in the afternoon, while I dealt with mornings and early evening.

Worse, I still didn’t have a car because the feds were now casing a kit of car dealerships. There were still places I could buy a car, but I’d already seen a second-hand truck I liked, modified so it was hardier than most, and I wasn’t willing to get anything else. I could buy the car anyway, but then I’d be stopped for questioning and no doubt the feds would look at everything they could about me.

Not worth risking when I was technically dead.

I’d spent a lot of time trying to get a sense of operations in the works, but even _that _quickly got boring.

“I need something to do,” I said as I got into the bunker. Andrew was at his computer, dressed in shorts, a thin shirt and flip flops. The place wasn’t so warm that he should be wearing clothes that light, but he seemed at ease.

“I thought you were supposed to be laying low,” he said, before taking a large sip of juice.

“I have been and nothing’s happened,” I said. Lung had bought guns a week ago, but he still hadn’t acted. The Brotherhood were quiet and even _E88 _was silent. I’d expected them to be doing something after the whole Hookwolf mess, but there was only silence. The only people who were doing anything were the Pure, and that was because they were trying to clean up the Boat Graveyard.

It felt like a fool’s errand, especially when they only had marginal help from the city, but they’d done it for three days now and there were signs it was continuing. Purity used her blaster power to destroy the largest of the ships into smaller chunks, before Scribe moved them with her power. It must have been something they’d been planning for a while because there were reports that they were selling the metals to scrap heaps in different cities.

To date, they hadn’t finished even moving one ship because the things were _big _and the distance they had to travel.

There had also been some arrests made in connection to a gay bar that had been torched three weeks back. Emails had been anonymously leaked and it wasn’t surprising that some Nazi wannabes had planned the whole thing.

“I want something to do,” I said again, my voice firmer. “Something light.”

“Last time I gave you something light, you ended up fighting the Undersiders,” he said.

“That was just bad luck,” I said. “Give me something. That’s an order.”

“Okay, fine,” he said with a sigh. He focused on his computer, clicked through. “There’s still the priority five you requested to follow Sophia Hess.”

“Not that,” I said. “I already see enough of her.”

“Um…there’s more in a similar vein. People of interest worth following but those are long term. There’s a priority two,” he said. “Some rich guy, mid-twenties. He date-raped a girl and got off. Rumour says it isn’t the first girl, but she’s the only one that’s stepped up.”

“Give me a dossier,” I said. After a few clicks he started to print. I moved over, seeing the picture we had on him. The guy was white, average height and with a body that said he worked out. “Do we think E88 paid anyone off?”

“Jury said not guilty,” said Andrew with a shrug. “The survivor’s white too, so I don’t think it’s that simple. Just has good lawyers.”

I grabbed the print-out, eyes running over it. For all that Dave Carpenter wasn’t one of our highest priorities, there was a lot on him; his address and the places he frequented. Where he went to school and the clubs he loved going to. The info gathering would have been priority five, likely done by separate individuals before the information had been compiled.

I didn’t know where he was _now, _which might mean a lot of travelling around.

“Do you have a car, Andrew?” I asked. “I need to borrow it.”

He shook his head. “I don’t go out, like, _at all.” _

“Is that related to your powers?”

He shrugged. “Agoraphobia,” he said. “It got bad when my brothers pushed me to go out into one of my trigger spaces. Got powers but they did _not _help. Felt like before I was working off a baseless panic, you know? But then suddenly I could _see _it, all of the signs that the world is screwed up and how everyone’s looking at me and judging me.”

_Definitely shouldn’t have asked this, _I thought.

“But you’re okay, now? You’re happy?”

He shrugged again. “I’m living. Got more purpose than I had before.” He grinned. “I’m part of the Illuminati. Changing the world behind the scenes. And I get paid which is a bonus.”

“That’s good,” I said and it sounded weak, uncertain. I waved the dossier. “Better get to work.”

“Good luck,” he said with a giant grin, though I could see it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

It was late evening as I stepped out, the streets largely empty. The Trainyard area was small, technically a part of the Docks, but with how large they were, it made more sense to split things up. Three blocks, stretching out next to the old train yards, with their carts still sitting there, gathering up rust. The Boardwalk wasn’t too far away, I could see the gleam of lights as they speared up into the sky.

But as close as the Boardwalk was, this area was still rough, no cabs came by these parts so late and it meant I had to be aware of my surroundings as I walked. 

On one side of road were buildings, tenements and some stores, most of them closed for the night, while on the other side were houses, none in very good condition even if most of them were still alive. I caught sight of a Latino boy, eleven or twelve, sitting at his front porch watching me with a scowl as I walked by.

_Can’t say I blame you, kid, _I thought, keeping my head forward and walking with an ease.

Purity had started the Pure. She’d taken former criminals from E88 and independents from Boston to do her work: Crusader, Rune—now Scribe—and Fog and Night. All of them had criminal records, all of them had charges pending, but since making the announcement of reform on-line, the Protectorate had started keeping their distance.

Sure, there wasn’t a cordial relationship. The Pure never worked with any of the official heroes. But there was inaction. The Protectorate had stopped trying to catch the Pure, and it had reached the point where the Pure could operate in daylight, unafraid of being apprehended.

That they were working for the city, trying to clear the Boat Graveyard; even it was good, it was bad because of what it meant. It meant criminals, so long as they were white, could be absolved of their crimes without recourse, that all the shitty things they’d done to people of colour didn’t matter.

To be non-white meant being second class, and it was hard not to be resentful.

I flicked vision states as I went into a block with no power. The streetlights were on, but there were no lights in the buildings and surrounding houses. Utilities cut because they didn’t pay their bills.

Three blocks from the Boardwalk.

Headlights flooded behind me. I turned, my vision cutting through the flash to see the outline of the car and the blue forms of three people inside. The car cut into the wrong side of the road, stopping ahead of me; the passenger and back doors opened and two guys stepped. The guy at the back had easier access, while the passenger had to slide over the hood to get close.

My gun was out and pointed in a second, two shots fired that hit each a tire.

The men, teenagers now that I was paying more attention, stumbled to a stop, their eyes wide. The driver shifted, his body saying he was grabbing for something. I shot again. His window shattered as the bullet slid through and a hollow thump reverberated as it hit the door on the other side.

“Stop,” I said. “Leave the gun. Hands so I see them.”

He pulled his hands up.

This area was largely Latino, with smatterings of black people and even a smaller number of white. These guys were Latino, not wearing any clear gang colours that I knew, though with the shifting tides a new gang might be in the works that I didn’t know about.

“What was this?” I asked. “What were you trying to do?”

“The—”

“What’s going on here?” a voice said. All of us looked up. I flicked back to my normal vision to see Chariot who hovered in the air, wearing blue and black tinker armour that seemed to be sleek lines and sharp angles. The armour had stretched proportions, arms and legs that ended in long, black spikes. All at once he dropped, the long spikes that made up his leg absorbing the impact with a squeak.

“They were trying something,” I said, my gun still pointed.

“That’s not how it looks to me,” he said, walking forward; his spikes squeaked with each step, retracting a little into his leg. “You’re the one holding the gun. You’re the one who’s in the Trainyard, walking alone at this time of night.”

“It’s _eight,” _I said. “I’d say this is early evening.”

“Clothes don’t make sense too,” Chariot continued. “I know the type that live here and you’re dressed too nicely. Makes me think you were trying to cause trouble. Some E88 baiting initiation thing.”

_Fuck that for being a thing._

“If you hadn’t noticed,” I said. “The car, how it’s standing, where I shot. Even if you _think _that’s what’s happening. You can’t disregard the evidence. They were starting shit. They cut into the sidewalk, stopped _me.” _

“Not the first time some E88 fucker cried wolf,” said Chariot. “Said they were standing their ground. Altered the scene to make it make sense.”

I sighed. “You know this is stupid, right?” I said. “This show. You’re making it so criminals like them think they’re in the right. They’ll keep doing what they’re doing.”

“As opposed to criminals like you?” he said. “Because _they _keep doing what they’re doing and they’re protected by laws, by structures. It’s fucked up and playing nice isn’t going to help that. Gotta look after my own when no one else is.”

“So is this where you kill me?” I asked. “Because I can’t see how this end?”

“No,” he said. “This is where I ask you if you have a license for that gun? And if you don’t, I call the police.”

_Fuck me. Fuck him. Fuck my power. _

“Yes,” I said. “I do.”

My stranger power was always on. The moment I holstered any weapon, it was ignored. This rippled out a little, to make the process smooth. But there were limits. If I holstered my gun, then the gun conversation would slip from his mind. But the shot tires and the broken window wouldn’t, everyone’s positioning and that these guys had been scared off by a girl wouldn’t disappear. He could still fill in the blanks and conclude that I was a cape, which would just make things a whole lot more complicated.

Which meant I had to be careful.

“It’s in my bag,” I said. “I’m going to reach for it.”

I kept my gun pointed as I shrugged off my backpack, pulling up one leg to stow it while I dug for my wallet.

“You can just put away the gun,” said Chariot.

“For some strange reason, I feel safer with the gun in my hand,” I muttered.

“Strange,” he muttered back.

I pulled out my wallet, opened it to show him my permit. It had a fake name but a picture of me. He got close, pointing his arm at me. His tinker armour didn’t have hands, instead it had a long black spike like the ones he was standing on. When he touched my wallet with his spike it stuck and he neared it to his face.

“Legit,” he said, giving it back to me. “Hard to think you’re twenty.”

“I moisturise,” I muttered. I dropped my wallet into my bag then hooked it up and took it with my free hand. I shrugged my backpack on.

“Okay,” said Chariot. “You say they were starting something. I can call the cops, have them sort this out. But I’ve got a strong feeling you’re not gonna want that.”

Cops would be a complication.

“No.”

“Right,” he said, his tone resigned. He pointed at the three guys. “You’re lucky she didn’t kill you. But I think that she shot out your tires is good enough. Don’t start shit or next time you won’t be so lucky.”

“Whatever, man,” one said.

“Where’re you headed?” he said to me. “I can get you there.”

“Boardwalk. Or any place that has a cab,” I said.

“I’ll take you,” he said. “Make sure there isn’t trouble. You can put the gun away, now.”

_Hopefully since everything’s resolved, shit doesn’t hit the fan. _

I holstered my gun.

Chariot’s feet spike receded with a squeaking sound and he got shorter until he was about human height even if he was still tall.

“Get on my back,” he said.

I moved forward, using the guy’s hood to get a bit of height as I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. The guy muttered an oath under his breath but I ignored him. 

“Moving,” he said. It didn’t feel like I was moving, there was no jolt, no sudden stop, my hair didn’t even flutter. Instead I caught the blur of buildings before they disappeared and we were in the sky. Then we rushed forward, the coast suddenly so much closer and with us hovering over a sidewalk, taller buildings below us. We dropped, landing with a squelch.

I jumped off and stumbled back.

There hadn’t even been time to feel exhilarated.

_This is why we don’t go after capes directly, _a part of me thought. Fighting the Undersiders had meant three of our people dead. I couldn’t imagine how we’d fair if we fought someone like Chariot.

“Don’t do any more stupid shit like walking alone in that area,” he muttered, his feet spikes receding. They sprung back up and he was gone, taking off into the air.

I got a cab up the hill to the towers, tying my hair in a ponytail as I read the dossier. Everything we had about the guy and his habits. He went to BBU and was studying towards a degree in IT. From the grades we’d been able to pull, he wasn’t the best student. There was a list of social media accounts attached to the dossier, and I pulled out my phone, searching them on each and looking through his feed.

“Um, can we turn around?” I said. “Downtown. The Blue Moon Lounge.”

The cab turned around.

He’d posted something over thirty minutes, sitting at a table with booze in front of him. It took us fifteen minutes before we got there, a club edging near the docks, in a converted warehouse. Above the door was a large name board with a moon illuminated by neon blue light. There were cars parked up along the way and there was a line with a few people, all of them dressed in nice clothes.

I would _definitely _not be going in there.

I scouted the surrounding buildings, trying to get a sense of a way I could get in but there wasn’t any. The windows were up high, blacked out and they didn’t open. I could break through, but that might call more attention than I wanted.

There was likely a back entryway, but it’d be harder getting in there than at the front.

I watched the line, looking for a group of people that were closely clustered together, particularly female and I found them. A group of five women, standing in line chatting amicably. I walked forward, shoulders straight and I ignored the scowls I got for cutting.

The group stopped their conversation and looked at me as I got close, but the moment I moved into their group they ignored me. Going back to their conversation.

It was a few minutes of waiting, bored out of my mind, scrolling through my phone as the girls talked around me. When it was their turn to go in, the bouncer didn’t even spare me a glance. I disentangled myself from them, walking into another crowd and finding comfort in my stranger power.

The place was a large open space in the middle, a bar at the far end, and cordoned-off stairs that led up to a mezzanine with the seating areas. I caught a group of girls being invited up and I quickly surged through the crowd, slipping through the spaces that opened up until I reached the last of them as they were let through.

The bouncer’s eyes slipped over me and I moved with the girls, all of them chatting with excited voices. They found a table and I split away from them, moving through the tables so I stood close to the railing that gave me a view of the dance floor.

The place was dark, lit blue, but switching vision states helped.

I started by looking at the tables, scanning for Dave and when I didn’t find him, I scanned on the dance floor. It was a mess of bodies down there, all of whom didn’t look up. Which meant it was a _task _to look for him.

Not to mention I wasn’t sure if he was still here. For all I knew he could have gone home.

I pulled out my phone, went back to his social media feeds to see if he’d posted anything and he hadn’t. I was just putting down my phone when a guy sidled up next to me, carrying a glass of champagne.

“You seemed lonely over here,” he said. At a glance he was in his twenties, long, bleached blond hair and a pimply face. He’d tried to hide the pimples with concealer, but it hadn’t worked.

“I’m not,” I said. “Thanks. But no thanks.”

His expression twisted as he looked me over.

I turned away. This was a bust, anyway. Better to stakeout his place. Here, I would have just shot him, stole his wallet so it seemed like a robbery, but there I’d have to be more creative.

I mentally snorted. By creative I meant just injecting him with an air bubble and hoping everything fell into place.

The bouncer let me through and I moved through the crowd again, getting out and taking a deep breath of the fresh air.

_This is your problem, _I thought as I walked away. _You rush these things. _

I’d rushed the tenement with the security forces guys, and now I wanted to get this done as quickly as possible. But things like this could take a while, getting a sense of the target, more than the words on a file; knowing their life and getting a sense of the perfect moment to strike.

This was a priority two for a reason. Even I rushed it, played things sloppy, then the kill could cause trouble for us by having police investigate.

_Then it’s long term, project, _I thought. _Pace this out so that you have something interesting to do. Actually focus on being an _assassin _instead of a parkour expert that kills on the side._

It was past nine, with most of the businesses closed and with only a few cars on the road. As I looked up, I spotted a bright glow as Purity flew through the sky, a dark shape trailing after her. By direction, they were headed to the Lower Bay, in the dredges of Lung’s territory and where the Pure liked to patrol.

As safe as this place was, after the run-in with Chariot I was on my guard. I hailed a cab home.

***

_“—and it speaks to clear disregard to any life if it isn’t white,” _said Elijah Bronson. An activist of some sort, they’d written down what he did, but I had been barely paying attention. He was a hefty man, wearing an ugly brown suit with an almost gold vest beneath it. He sat forward; the camera closer because of it. He had dark skin, but I could see the slight hints of red, the beads of sweat and how his mouth twitched beneath his moustache.

_“Many will argue, Mr Bronson,” _said Adam Long, wearing a nicer suit, his hair neatly parted and his expression evened out. He was the anchor and because he was Asian, he’d had a time where he’d been called one of Lung’s flunkies. It had gotten so bad that he’d almost lost his job. _“That this is looking a gift horse in the mouth. The Boat Graveyard has long been a stain on Brockton Bay, stifling a fishing industry that could form, the broadening in tourism. Purity is doing good work.” _

_“Which means we should all forget who she is?” _Elijah Bronson countered, his voice filled with heat. _“Purity is a Nazi—” _

_“Was,” _Adam corrected. _“For two years she’s been a hero.” _

_“And for two years she’s only dealt with the ABB, the Brotherhood, the Merchants when they were still a group, even fighting the Undersiders. Only two weeks ago, she fought Squealer who now works for the Den Mother. Do you see the pattern here, or do you need it spelt out to you?” _

_“Purity isn’t going after the Empire,” _said Adam.

_“Purity is only going after people of colour,” _said Elijah. _“The ABB are an Asian gang; the Brotherhood are largely black and Hispanic; the Merchants were largely black; the Undersiders are led by Grue, who’s black; and Den Mother is Asian. I could get it if this was change of heart, if she showed remorse for what she did. But, it’s not, she still gets to perpetuate her racism only under a different lens. She now gets to pretend she’s a hero and everything she is, everything she’s done, is forgotten.” _

“Are you going to order something?” said the barkeep. She was a thin woman, tattoos running up along her arm. The bar was a fancy one, which made sense because the rest of the hotel was fancy; there were booths at the sides, which were quieter than the bar with a TV connected to the wall.

“Coke, please,” I said. “I’d also like you to send a drink over to that guy over there. Whatever he’s having.”

“Sure,” the barkeep said and she walked away. I turned back to the television. A local evening news show.

_“…delicate subject,” _said Elijah. _“But it has to be done the right way. Purity is a criminal, with assault and battery charges, swathes of property damage and who knows what else happened while she worked for E88. She has _not _paid for any of those crimes. Justice hasn’t been served. She’s doing good, sure, but _she’s _the one who’s deciding how that plays out instead of the _courts _as it should be.” _

My coke landed in front of me and I smiled. I took a sip, looking away and glancing towards the table Dave and his friends sat at. His drink arrived. He already had bottles and glasses on their table, but the drink was a gesture, an invitation.

He got the drink, glanced my way and I smiled, sitting a little straighter. He grinned, said something to his friends before he stood and sauntered towards me.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hello,” I said back, keeping my voice low, a light smile on me.

“You sent me a drink,” he said.

I shrugged. “I wanna have some fun,” I said, “and you’re good looking.”

He leaned against the bar, getting closer. “And…” he started, whispering, “this isn’t one of those pay to play type deals. Is it?”

“You’re asking me if I’m a prostitute,” I said with a laugh. “I should be offended.”

He shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy,” he said. “A girl like you, fit and confident. Something’s usually up.”

“No. Not a prostitute,” I said. “But I do want that fun. Let’s get out of here. I have a room upstairs.”

“Fuck it,” he said with a massive grin. “Nothing better to do.”

I shifted mental states, not really focusing as we kissed and he groped me in the elevator. We moved down the hall and I slid my key card, pushing the door to get in.

“Wait,” I said, pulling back and opening my clutch. I reached and pulled out a small baggie with white powder, shaking it. “Want some?”

“Oh, fuck,” he said, a larger grin spreading. “Yeah.”

“Get started while I slip into something more comfortable,” I said, throwing the baggie to him. He caught it, walking over to the table while I went to the bathroom. I ran the water and stood under it.

Being an assassin wasn’t clean. I knew women who did _this _in performing their duty, but being under eighteen had afforded me an exemption.

_Seduction. _

I stood under the scalding hot water, letting it run over me.

_The world is really fucked up when _killing _doesn’t even phase me, but some groping does, _the thought came and went. I pushed it aside. I had a job to finish.

I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out to find Dave on the couch, his head lolled back. There were cameras in the halls and common areas, but there were none in the rooms. I walked over the phone, started breathing hard, letting the thoughts and feelings around Dad fill me up before I dialled.

“Nine-One-One, what is your—”

“Please,” I said, the word not even getting all the way through. “He’s—he’s not breathing. We were—it was stupid, but he was having some coke and I think it must have been bad because he’s not moving. I tried to shake him and—”

“Ma’am,” I heard. “First I’ll need you to tell me where you are, then I’ll need to go over to the man and feel for a pulse.”

“Okay,” I said, sounding breathless.

Dave had experience with drugs, he’d gone to rehab a few times. The police would come, ask questions and run tests. But all they’d find was that this was just some bad cocaine.

*** 

A few hours of dealing with the police, explaining things over and over, telling them I was from out of town and wanted to have a good time and everything was over. I was back at work after class, behind my computer and decompressing by trawling the internet.

The issue about Purity cleaning up the Boat Graveyard was bigger than I thought, with it having various pages in a few forums. In most, save those with bad moderation, there were a slew of demerits, bannings and deleted comments. There seemed to be a push and pull, with people arguing the person Purity had been, her past actions, while others seemed to put on a spotlight the person she was now and the work she was doing.

It was a circle, the same talking points over and over without moving forward. Everyone had something they believed and it didn’t feel like anyone was budging.

_Not my problem, _I thought as I leaned back against my chair. Because this wasn’t as simple as just shooting someone and hoping that would ripple out into _good. _This was more complicated because it wasn’t _just _about Purity, but what she represented and the system as a whole.

_Nothing I can do about it, _I thought again and I pushed the thoughts away.

Dave was dead. I’d spent another two days scouting him before I’d figured out how to do things. Everything had gone without a hitch and now I no longer had anything to do to fill my days.

I pulled out one of the hard drives with an overview of operations, as well as progress reports on some of the more important things we were dealing with. Detective Langley had been suspended with pay. One of the Prowlers had photographed various meetings of him and criminal elements, as well as one shot of him looking over a crate with a known member of the Brotherhood. That had been enough to open an internal investigation. Hopefully, things would go well on that end.

Sandra Cooper had finally been arrested. We’d managed to shout loud enough that social security services had investigated her orphanage and she was being ushered out. We already had people in place that would fill the position and money we’d start donating to make the place better. Hopefully those kids would have a better home.

We’d finally returned Benny Clint to his family after holding him for three weeks. We were now five hundred thousand dollars richer because of it, money that would be well spent even with how shitty the whole thing had been. I knew there were already plans to kidnap another kid, this one a teenager, but it’d be at least six months before that moved through.

There were also plans to scout a local delivery service, there were thoughts that it might be connected to the movement of cocaine in the city.

I was interrupted by my door as it tried and failed to open. I heard a mutter then a harsh knock.

I pulled out my hard drives, stowed them in their safes then stood to open the door. Of course, _Sophia _and she was in early than she usually was.

“Why do you always lock your door?” she said. “Hiding something?”

“Maybe I don’t want to deal with you,” I said.

“Nah,” she said. “This is old behaviour. Must be Gretchen. Seems like the type that just budges into a room—”

“You say after just trying to get in here without knocking,” I said. “What do you want?” I added, before she could get in a word.

“I’ve been watching you,” she said.

I hummed, giving her a _look. _

“Fuck you, Hebert,” she said. She paused, frowned, then, “You can fight.”

Was that a compliment?

I shrugged.

“You ever watch those old Kung Fu movies?” Sophia said. “Where the old master goes into a new school, challenges the new guy so he can get one of their students?”

“I have,” I said. “Just don’t see where this is going.”

“I want us to do that,” she said. “You and me. We head over to the DMDA. Challenger Uber and show off that this place is good too.”

“That sounds stupid,” I said. “Uber’s a cape.”

“A cape that ain’t worth shit,” she said. “And anyway, his power means he’s a fighter. That doesn’t mean he’s got super strength or speed or some shit. If we’re more skilled, then we can win.”

I sighed. “I have a good thing. I like the people that I work with. I don’t need teenagers to train.”

“Come on, Hebert,” she said. “You can’t go through all of _this. _Training to so you’re this good and then not use it.”

I frowned. This was a thing I’d read about a while back. About what abusers did. Pushing a person down over and over, then easing up with some compliments, before pushing again.

“No,” I said. “You wanna do this. Then do it, I don’t care. But I’m not going to get involved.”

“Fuck you’re still pathetic,” she said

_And fuck you’re predictable, _I thought.

“I’m about to close my door, now,” I said. “Goodbye, Sophia.”

She glared at me as I ducked back, closing the door and locking it. I went back to my computer, finding that my mind wondered, not sticking on one thing before I locked things away again, deciding to take an early day out.

**Me: **Need something to do.

**Andrew: **Alphonso has an operation. E88 have an initiation thing going.

**Me: **Location.

He sent it.

**Me: **Be there in a few.

Alphonso, Sonya, Kurt, Dylan and Maddie were waiting for me as I arrived. Alphonso was the biggest in the group, a tall guy with broad shoulders. He had pale skin and almost silver, blond hair. He had a stern expression as I arrived, looking me over.

“Others are going to be on my case when they find out I’m letting you in on this,” he said.

“I’m the boss. You can tell them I ordered you,” I said, looking the others over.

Sonya and Kurt were in their thirties, with a confidence to how they stood that told me they’d been part of our group for a while now. Dylan and Maddie, not so much. Dylan was the youngest, probably sixteen at youngest but with a nubile face; he was thin, with a height on him that made him look awkward. Maddie was eighteen or nineteen, squat, with a blunt face and a hairstyle that did her no favours. She held herself quite well, but I could see how shaky her eyes were.

“Oh, fuck, you’re…” said Maddie.

“Should I bow or something?” said Dylan. “I…You’re the _leader. _The reason I have powers._” _

“I’m a piece of the whole,” I said, frowning. What were they telling these kids for them to react like this? “What’s going on?”

“We got word that E88 are holding an initiation. That and there’s been a few disappearances, makes us think they might be trying to honour Hookwolf.”

“Disappearances?”

“Homeless, druggies,” said Alphonso. “So no police involvement even if there’ve been reports. We’re thinking it’s a fight club.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair and using the motion to bunch it together, getting it in ponytail.

“Extraction?” I said. Alphonso nodded. “That’s not usually your forte.”

“Wrecking shit along the way,” he said with a shrug. “Ammar wanted to head this, but we’ll blend in better from a distance.”

“How are we playing this?”

“Civvies,” he said. “Strapped with knives and concealable weapons and grenades, live and smoke. There might be powers and we don’t want to set them off if it’s too early. So things that we can hide. I’ve also got a few of my people waiting to be called in if things go to shit.”

“That’s dangerous,” I said. “You’d be giving us away.”

“I’ve been around Max long enough to know how to use the chaos,” he said. “I’ll be select.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out. I nodded again.

“I need the distraction,” I said.

“Then gear up and let’s head off.”

Alphonso had a truck, large and a deep black. There were six of us and even though the truck was a double cab, there were only so many that could fit. I chose the back, standing there and letting my hair loose, the wind ruffling it. Other drivers did their best to ignore me, while others made sure to give me looks of disapproval.

We moved through the South End, headed east. The streets got quieter, businesses that were closed for the night surrounding us. We stopped half a block away and went on a wall. There was more E88 graffiti in these parts of town and the vast majority of the people we passed on the streets were white.

Alphonso led, taking us to a closed-down theatre. We went along the back, where a large man with a potbelly and a visible gun stood at the door, a plume of smoke rising from his mouth.

He and Alphonso shared a look before the man stepped aside, letting us through. We moved down a long hallway, turned a few times before we started running into more people. The meeting would be in the arena, a large open space whose seats had been pulled out years ago. Now it gave everyone room to stand at the base of the stage. Many were close to the bottom, in the section that usually didn’t have seats, while other stood in the places were the seats usually sat.

People had divided into groups, large smiles and a palpable sense of excitement running through them. I saw as one group arrived, eliciting cheers from another before the two groups got together.

I did a quick count and there were over a hundred people in this place. And all of them looked so _happy, _so excited when they made life horrible for other people. Like this was just another day out.

“Emily!” said a woman, dark haired. She smiled as she walked over to our group.

Sonya smiled. “Hello Angela,” she said. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” said Angela. “And you brought new faces.”

“It’s been a while since something like this happened,” said Sonya. “Decided to have these guys see our cause.”

“You’re so lucky,” said Angela. “Your first meeting and you’ll be seeing our capes in the flesh.”

“Capes?” said Alphonso.

“Overman was here,” said Angela. “He was calling for any new faces that want to be a part of this. So they can show their strength.”

If he was here, then maybe I could get a shot in. Kill him and take him out of the picture.

“We’re new,” I said. “Do we have to go too? To meet up with him?”

Alphonso shot me a look, his brow subtly raised.

“I think it’s too late now,” said Angela.

_“Fuck,” _I said. “That would have been awesome. Being a _part _of it, you know? The revolution.”

Angela smiled. “We’re already doing so much good work,” she said, almost gushing. “Purity and the Pure. Showing the niggers what it really means to be a part of society.”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling, thinking about the happy memories with Dad and Mom to keep a light in my eyes. I shrugged. “Sucks that I’ll have to wait, but—”

“If you really want to meet the others then I’m sure I can arrange something,” said Angela. “Give me a sec, I’ve gotta talk to people. Maybe they can make things happen. Emily, we’ll talk?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Sonya.

“You know what you’re doing?” said Alphonso, the words a whisper. “We shouldn’t be splitting up when they’ve got capes here.”

“Overman won’t be expecting it,” I said. “We’ll get a quick stab in, maybe even see where they’re stowing the people that disappeared.”

“I don’t feel comfortable seeing you off alone,” he said.

“I can handle it,” I said. “I’m stronger than you. Faster—”

“Yeah. Yeah,” said Alphonso. “Just be careful, alright? Your old man’s ghost would be pissed at me if shit happened.”

Alphonso had worked with Dad way-back-when. They hadn’t been friends, but they’d talked enough for him to have known I existed. Thankfully he hadn’t help so a high regard for Dad that he’d wanted to keep me out of the game.

I nodded.

“That’s if she even finds anyone,” said Sonya. “Angela likes to pretend she’s liked, but a lot of people tolerate her for her husband.”

“’Least they’ll listen to her,” said Kurt. He was scouting, his mouth tilted in a frown. “I don’t like this. How many people are here? I feel like we should just blow this place up. It would be easier.”

“Careful,” I said. “They’ve got capes. Cricket’s a thinker.”

“Right. Yeah,” said Kurt and he sighed. 

“Empire!”

We turned and, on the stage, stood Overman, dressed in a blue and white spandex costume, with a white, encircled fist on his chest. He was average height, his costume so tight it showed lean muscle. The mask of his costume was the sort that covered most of his face, even his ears, but it let his chin show; the top was free and it let him show off bleached blond hair tied in a knot.

People stopped and turned, breaking apart and moving forward to get close to the stage.

I looked at Alphonso as we were taken in by the crowd, as no doubt our stranger powers took effect and we became _lost. _He looked back at me, his face even. I _wanted _to move, to take out my gun and shoot, maybe use the chaos our advantage to get out. But there were still the people who’d been captured.

Which was more important, then in this case? Taking out one of the capes that made E88 a problem, or saving a few people? The _greater _good or the individual.

I motioned with my head and after a flicker from Alphonso he nodded.

I tapped Kurt and Maddie who were closest to me, gave them the signal for alert. They nodded and tensed; Maddie’s eyes went watery as her breathing picked up.

“The brave!” said Overman. “The pure! The ones who fucking _built _great civilisations!”

There were people all around us, clustered closely together, all of them moving to get closer to the stage. The place was large, thankfully, which meant it wasn’t as hot it could be, but the press of bodies was uncomfortable and awkward.

“Who built the _greatest _civilisation of all. Who built this great nation and are now having to watch as it’s destroyed by niggers, kikes and chinks. We’re here to show that we will not be defeated!”

The crowd roared, cheers starting all around us.

The attention was forward, but there were too many people and too close. I started to move back, pulling and away. I was more forceful than I needed to be, but people ignored me because of my stranger power. I walked until I was at the back, with a better sight of the stage because of this place’s slant.

I pulled out my gun and didn’t think. Three shots one after the other as I pulled free a smoke grenade and threw it. I flicked my vision and saw as Overman stumbled back, arms going to chest before he blinked out of existence. Ahead of me, people had fallen as a wave, but others were turning. I could see some with their own guns pulling them out, trying to get at me.

A grenade went off in the crowd, letting out a plume of smoke that immediately engulfed a section of the crowd. I saw Alphonso and the others, still close together, white against a sea of blue-grey. They were running to the stage. I pulled out another grenade, hurled into the section of the crowd that looked like it had its shit together.

There were screams and the grenade burst while in the air, a plume of smoke spreading.

People, hit by fear, moved as a wave towards me.

I moved back, running for the exit.

I could shoot into the crowd. It would be what they deserved, because people like them were why Dad was dead. But there were capes around and I wanted to have a gun handy, wanted to have my grenades handy.

I got out and covered my retreat with more smoke and watched as the crowd reached the exit. Ten people, moving as a mass without really caring about the other, all trying to get out. Five did and I moved into the smoke, feeling a jostle as someone slammed into me. They continued to run even as they were out of the smoke, turning to head out of the back and I ran with them, half my face covered and coughing as though the smoke grenade bothered me.

I was a part of crowd and even as we hit fresh air, squeezing through a door that wasn’t meant for this many people. I was as scared as they were, not worth a passing glance.

I wasn’t the only one still running even outside, people rushing to wherever they’d left their cars. Some were screaming that we should be together, that we were stronger as a group by they were ignored. I wasn’t worth the attention as I continued to run, my path taking me back to Alphonso’s car.

I’d hit Overman. I couldn’t be sure that I’d killed him. He had a brute power like mine, but the stumble back meant I’d _hurt _him.

It brought a smile to my face.

A form was waiting for me as I got to the truck, dressed in black and carrying a crossbow.

I stopped, tensed, readying myself to dodge a crossbow bolt.

“Calm down, Hebert,” said Shadow Stalker and she pulled up her mask. _Sophia._

“You’re Shadow Stalker,” I said, still keeping my distance. I swallowed. “A lot of shit suddenly makes sense.”

She’d made my life hell and she’d gotten away with it _so _many times. There had even been on time she’d slammed me into a wall so hard I’d lost a few seconds. But no one had cared. They’d said there’d be an investigation and that had been it.

She shrugged. “Yeah? Ditto,” she said. “You disappear for two years and you’re suddenly a different person. You don’t flinch, you can fuckin’ fight like you’ve doing it for years. That’s above everything else. I call bullshit. Only makes sense that you’ve got a power propping you up.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, but there wasn’t much feeling in it.

She snorted. “Alright,” she said. “You wanna play it like that? There’s only two things that could be going on here. Either you’re a cape and you’re the reason the Nazi are scurrying. Or you’re a Nazi.” She pointed her crossbow. “In which case…”

“What do you want, Sophia?” I asked, restraining myself.

“What’s the deal?” she asked. “What is this? Whose gang are you in?”

“And if what you’re saying was true, why would I tell you?” I asked. “You’re Protectorate.”

“I’ve got a bow pointed at you,” she said.

“I’m sure I could dodge it.”

“Ha,” she said and I caught as her finger shifted. I ducked low and to the side, pulled out a smoke grenade and threw it. Smoke spilled out and I pulled my gun out. Sophia was already moving, running forward before she jumped. Her blue-grey form disappeared as she went breaker and I had to turn back to my regular sight to see the dark form above me, her crossbow pointed.

I dark shot hurtled out, going for my arm. I angled out of the way, turning gun towards her as she quickly turned human to descend, then breaker again to control her momentum. I turned, prepared to shoot and moved out of the way of another shot, headed for my gun hand again.

_Why that when there’s a bigger target at centre mass? When I’d have to move more? _

_Unless she doesn’t want to kill me. _

I holstered my gun as Sophia landed and she shifted out of her shadow state, her bow pointed.

She let out a bark of laughter, dropping her bow.

“Okay, Hebert,” she said. “You’ve got skill.”

I heard footsteps. Sophia turned. Likely hearing them too.

“Guess we’re gonna have to finish this conversation another time.”

She started at a run them jumped, shifting into shadow and continuing to sail until she was over a rooftop. She switched back and dropped, landing and taking off.

_What the fuck? _I thought as I watched Alphonso and the others coming, six people between them, black, Latino and Asian, all of them thin and dirtied.

_And what does it mean that Shadow Stalker, a hero in the Protectorate, was so gung-ho about getting a job at my gym?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Trevor Medina**

The squeak was unnecessary, for that matter it was a _waste._

I’d designed the suit to be as self-sustaining as it could. There were quirks, things that I’d been forced to rework because of the limitations of the tech, but I’d made sure that the suit could be used for sneaking. The squeaks were something I’d loved while watching the Aleph continuation of the Dragonball Saga. The menacing sound that had preceded the appearance of perhaps the greatest villain of the series: _Cell_.

When I’d built the suit, I’d reworked things, made sure that excess energy from motion was expelled as sound, at the right frequency and pitch that they’d make the iconic squeaks.

Of course not many people caught it. Powers existed and Anime didn’t have the same reach on Earth Bet as it still had on Earth Aleph. But then, they still found ‘superhero’ movies fun and these movies seemed to bend around themselves to make them campy and non-serious.

It was disappointing really, because there was _so _much they could do with the genre. Instead it seemed they’d delegated it to kid’s entertainment like we’d done for cartoons.

_You’re getting distracted, _one part of me thought.

_You’re distracted because this is just bullshit, _another thought.

I pushed it all away, focusing on the data that flashed on my HUD, giving me a quick overview of diagnostics on the suit before switching to police reports, then pulling up the feed from Dauntless’ camera to get a sense of where he was.

Ever since the ‘Young Protectors’ had gone rogue and attacked Hookwolf, Director Calvert had gone overboard with his creepy spying. Now we _always _had to have our cameras on or there’d be a lot of paperwork. Which was just the _worst. _

_You’re still distracted. _

A breath in, slowly. My mind was an ocean, churning as thoughts all tried to reach for the top. But with my focus the churning eased, with a select few thoughts rising to the surface.

The _squeak. _

I let out a breath.

I’d landed on the roof of a suburban home, so lightly that even the delicate tiles weren’t disturbed. Richmond Heights was spread out before me, mansions in a city where a lot of people lived in tenements; neatly manicured lawns in a city where some kids didn’t even have _parks _to play in after school; large, sprawling properties in a city where families of five could live in a bachelor apartment.

_This is bad, _I thought, _but it doesn’t have to be all you think about. _

The thoughts and feelings took up more space. I wanted to push them down and away, refocus, but my therapist had told me that that was a trap, that I had to be aware of the ‘bad’ thoughts, how they made me feel and whether those feelings were valid or not.

_The world is bullshit, _a thought came.

“The world is bullshit,” I muttered, feeling a measure of security because I was sure _no _one could hear me. After all, speech was just the perpetuation of vibrations through particles. I could sap that motion, stop it from leaking outside of the suit and ensure that none could hear me.

_“Chariot,” _Dauntless said, his voice coming from the earpiece in my right. _“You stopped. Something wrong?”_

The suit curled around me in protective armour, my hands fully locked inside with dials and pressure pads connected to fingers, toes and other musculature that moved under my conscious control. On the face mask was a grid to detect the motion of my face. Each bit of motion pulled up certain settings and functions to pilot the suit.

I twitched an eye and the out-going comms came on.

“Sorry, sir,” I said. “Just…distracted.”

_“If you’re not up for patrol then we can cut it short,” _he said. _“Tonight seems quiet.” _

_Only quiet here, _I thought. _If we went to the Trainyard or the Lower Bay we’d be able to find something. But we have to be here. Some rich shits get a painting stolen and it has the _Director _telling us to patrol here for a bit._

But I couldn’t say that.

“If you think so, sir,” I said.

_“Keep close,” _said Dauntless. _“Even if it’s quiet now, things can still happen.” _

“Yes, sir.”

A shift, pitching a little forward and the suit reacted. My foot-prongs retracted, the system rerouting stored energy to mimic tension. All at once things loosed and I was sent hurtling into the sky. Another shift and the upward momentum ceased. The energy was rerouted, the direction of the momentum shifting to pitch me forward while the suit converted gravitational acceleration into potential energy.

I surged forward and stopped in front of Dauntless for a few seconds before I dropped and landed with a squeak. Gravity could be a bitch of a force. It was constant downward acceleration and there was only so much that my batteries could hold before they had to expel the energy.

I usually did that through light. If my batteries were close to full, I was followed by a trail of blue light to vent the energy, or I could release it all in a blast.

Dauntless didn’t have the same problem.

His gladiator boots with straps up to his knees shone with brilliant yellow-white light that kept him aloft. He was an intimidating figure, with armour that seemed almost alive, shifting between solid metal and moving currents of electricity. At his right hand he carried his arclance, while a shield the size of a dinner plate was strapped to his left.

Dauntless let himself drop until he was about my height. He was a tall guy, but I’d built the suit to fit me within and built it to walk on prongs besides. It meant he had to fly a little higher to face me eye to eye.

“How are the Wards doing?”

I pulled up the files:

“Okay, mostly,” I said. I shrugged but the motion was awkward for the suit. It didn’t pull through. “Though Princess Starburst and Dazzling Daydream are having trouble. Princess Starburst’s grandfather visited and she was forced to cut her hair and file her nails. She isn’t dealing with it very well.”

Dauntless’ expression was hidden behind his helmet, the same yellow-white as the rest of his armour, with an electric Mohawk growing out of it. But I could see his eyes through the slit, taking me in.

He let out a sigh. “Complicated home life,” he said. “I thought things were getting better.”

“They _are _for the most part,” I said. “Parents are okay since her mom left. But these situations are tricky. It takes one thing and your day falls apart.”

Dauntless nodded. “I think I know the feeling,” he said. “And how’s the team rallying?”

“She likes hanging around Aegis so I moved around patrols so they’re together,” I said. “We had a mandatory movie night where we watched stupid action flicks and she enjoys those. We visited Parian’s place undercover, not to buy anything but to look around. It helped a little, I think.”

“And Dazzling Daydream?” he said.

“That’s harder,” I said and I sighed. “She’s being bullied. The old stuff about her being related to Purity is coming back with all the stuff around the Boat Graveyard. Then _above _that is the Nazis attacking her for being a race-traitor or some shit.”

I realised what I’d said but it was too late to pull back.

“That one is harder,” I said. “I don’t know how to help her without telling her to just stop going on the internet. Flying helps her settle, but that’s hard to juggle. Man Mod likes fixing up his tech, you’re busy and there’s only so much Aegis can do before he’s stretched thin.”

“I’ll have to make more time,” said Dauntless. “Or speak to New Wave. They owe us a favour. I could have Dazzling Daydream patrol with Glory Girl and Shielder.”

“She’d like that,” I said. “She looks up to Laserdream.”

“Hence the name?” said Dauntless.

“Yes, sir.”

“Everyone else?”

“No issues except growing pains from Brass Knuckler,” I said. “He wants more action and he’s chafing under the restrictions. I think if he doesn’t see _some _action soon, we’ll lose him.”

“Noted,” said Dauntless. “How about you? I saw the footage of you with the woman…I can’t remember the name.” 

“Sharla Kendricks,” I said, the image already having been pulled up. It would be another week before the temporary file would be deleted. “I was having a bad day.”

“That didn’t seem like a bad day,” he said, his voice gentle. “It seemed like a much deeper issue.”

I shrugged again and I felt irritated that the suit couldn’t impart the sentiment. “I guess? I don’t know what you want me to say. It feels like a lot of stuff is being swept under the rug and I’m expected to smile and bare it. Some people look after their own, but it’s wrong when I do the same.”

“Even when it’s protecting criminals?” he said.

“Criminals come from societal issues,” I said. It was something I’d read on a blog, though I couldn’t remember which. There’d been more meat to the issue, but I couldn’t remember most of it. “Society isn’t fixing those issues but it’s punishing the people that are affected and calling it fair. On the other hand it’s not punishing obviously bad people. I’m saying screw that and evening things out.”

Dauntless took a breath, stayed quiet for long moments before he said, “Purity and the Pure.”

I nodded.

“You understand why we don’t act on that, don’t you?” he said.

“Because she’s white?” I said, glib.

He gave me a look. “If I remember correctly, you were cleared on Shadow Stalker?” I nodded. “She isn’t white and she didn’t go to jail for her crimes.”

“But she was on parole for a while,” I said. “It’s like that guy said over the news. Purity, Rune, Night and Fog are deciding things for themselves. There isn’t _justice. _They’re still the same racist _fucks _they were before, but the only thing that’s different is that they’re a point of pride for people like them. They don’t have the same oversight that Shadow Stalker had.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot,” said Dauntless.

“Am I not supposed to be?” I said. “Sir…You remember when I visited your house?” Dauntless nodded. “Well, Shielder and your son had somewhere to be and they left me to walk home alone. All through the walk I got these _looks, _got called a nigger by some skinheads and I couldn’t do anything because I’d get _shit _for it. Am I supposed to ignore that?”

“That’s how you win,” he said. “By ignoring the stupidity and _succeeding.” _

I snorted. “I’m sorry, sir, but that’s naive as all hell,” I said. “That’s not how these things work. Even when you’re ignoring stuff it’s still eating at you, making you _doubt, _giving you these niggling thoughts that these shit-heads might be right.”

Dauntless sighed and didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“Director Calvert likes you,” said Dauntless. “So much that he thinks you might be leadership in the future.”

My heart swelled. Being a hero didn’t have all that much money, but the access to tech was amazing and I generally enjoyed being with the Wards. To think that I could _lead…_

“But your conduct, if it continues in this direction, will only make enemies,” he said. “It’ll mean some people being attacked by how callous you’ll be to certain races.”

“White people,” I corrected. “And it’s not white people I have a problem with. It’s structures. White people benefit from those structures a lot and some of them feel like you’re attacking _them _when you’re going after those structures. If that’s the case with someone that’s on my team, then that’s not on me and I won’t pretend like _I _have to change.”

“You won’t fix the world by thinking that way,” said Dauntless. “The best thing you can do is _communicate _and by closing doors the way you’re doing, you’ll be closing off that avenue. What these people believe is born out of ignorance, and when you realise that, it becomes easier to deal with them.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Sure.” An alert pinged up on my HUD and I was happy for the distraction. “I’ve spotted motion, sir, something car-shaped in the air.”

“Squealer,” said Dauntless, his voice quiet. “Last known to be working with Den Mother. You know her powers?”

“Part of a cluster trigger,” I said, the overlay appearing to give me a breakdown. “She’s got a way of getting allies and she can give people powers. She likes doing that, swapping powers around on her people. We think she might be the cluster’s trump.”

“We should expect Squealer and perhaps someone else,” said Dauntless.

“Wait, I’m coming too?”

He nodded. “You’re over sixteen, you can make this choice without us having to worry about the Youth Guard.”

I smiled a little. “I’m coming,” I said.

Dauntless nodded again. “We’ll be calling for backup,” he said. “Hopefully we can ground her which means Munsin can come in.”

“Do you think we’ll need them?” I asked.

“Better safe than sorry,” he said and he pushed off. Dauntless moved like a skater on the ice, thrusting himself up and forward, leaving trails of light in his wake. The dashes took him further away than they should, but then, he wasn’t really standing against anything so it didn’t make sense that he had to _thrust _in the first place.

My suit clocked his speed before I moved forward, my momentum cutting short at height before systems kicked in and redirected some of the gravitational acceleration to forward thrust.

Dauntless was _fast, _but I could be faster. The drawback was all the excess energy I had to release as my suit cannibalised the energy from the various sources of movement. The excess energy now was being released as a flood of dark blue light behind me.

It was bright and _loud _but that was part of the game, scaring people off so that Wards wouldn’t have to be part of the fight. It hit me that on graduating I’d have to code in a way to reduce the light so I could sneak, or maybe take the suit apart and find another way to vent excess energy.

_Focus, _I thought as we passed the last of the ‘neighbourhoods’ going into the place of the ultra-rich, where homes were ensconced within thick trees so us plebs couldn’t see them and the properties so large they seemed more like farms than homes. Here the mountains were much closer.

“Keep your distance. Cover my flank,” said Dauntless. He thrust himself forward while striking. His arclance grew bright, turning into a lance of electricity that struck forward. The air shimmered, a point growing red before the heat was spread out.

_Shield. Energy limited. Spreads out bursts of energy into surrounding panels to make sure it doesn’t overload. _

The cloaking tech disappeared to reveal a car, its wheels at its undercarriage and blocky rocket launchers installed at its sides. The thing was black, red and gold, looking like a muscle car in body but with so many additions that its beauty was lost. Atop the thing was a turret, large and blocky, with a long nozzle already swivelling to point at Dauntless.

_Semi-permeable shields are shit. Only makes sense to have that permeability flicker, offering marginal protection but letting things pass through. _

Dauntless brought up his shield and it _grew, _casting everything in brilliant light before there was a _thump. _

I’d already moved to the side, dashing with a flash of light and stopping away from the blast. I pointed an arm and through a quick series of movements expelled the payload from my gravity batteries, all concentrated in a beam of light the size of a finger.

The beam slid through the beam like it was butter, catching bits of metal and cutting through. The shield slid back to into solid, absorbed the energy and quickly dispersed it.

A hit at the base of the turret. The thing tried to swivel and caught, the metal twisted and bent.

I dashed back as rockets were shot in every direction, passing through the shields at different points before turning to come our way.

_Could be specific panels that stay in semi-permeable state, _the thought passed and I activated a bot that would flag patterns in missile fire.

Dauntless swiped his arclance, extending and energising it. The detonations went off before they could get close. He thrust his lance at the car and it flew higher, reorienting to fire the turrets at _me. _

I dashed out of the way and heard as the shot hit a property below.

Cameras on my system detected motion, people moving on the ground. I got my distance while my cameras rendered the motion into images. My stomach dropped. The shot hadn’t been meant for me but for the house. The shot had landed and took out over twenty people. There were others there, still moving under the rubble, but they weren’t doing so slowly. All except one.

“Lung,” said Dauntless. “Pull back.”

But he went_ forward_.

His arclance grew, _striking _and I caught as Lung jumped out of the way, using a column of fire under him to enhance his dodge. He hadn’t fully turned yet, but he was already bigger and his chest was encased in metal. Dauntless’ arclance forked, one prong turning into Lung’s dodge before congealing into one and spearing into his arm. Chunks of metal and flesh were stripped off, not that Lung cared. He landed in a roll and brought up his arms, sending another column of fire spearing into the air, then spreading it wider so it would catch Dauntless as he dodged.

Dauntless brought up his shield as he moved to the side, the wave of fire ran over his shield without going through.

I kept my eye on Squealer who was still in the air, angling her car to find an opening before she rained down bullets onto Lung. I moved back, keeping my distance while my system rerouted energy for another beam. I fired at the cusp of her gunfire; my beam speared through the shield, caught one of her guns and tore off a chunk of the car’s side. The car jumped, falling to one side before the turret went off. The bullet caught Lung in the chest, caving in metal and chest but not killing the man.

Lung exploded in fire, sending a wave all around him, starting a fire that worked to hide him from us. Dauntless didn’t abate, moving into the fire with his shield active. The shield ate at the fire while he closed off Lung’s retreat.

Squealer was still in the air, her car leaning heavily on one side. I had the sense that she was doing her best to keep it from spinning. My HUD lit up, telling me I had two more shots left before I’d have to suck up ten minute’s worth of gravitational acceleration for another shot.

I moved back, keeping my distance and an eye on both fights.

Dauntless was succeeding in keeping Lung from retreating, using superior speed and power to block the fires and take away chunks of his armour plating. But Lung was still growing; he was larger, his face misshapen even if it was wasn’t surrounded by metal, his neck elongated and the chunks of skin Dauntless took off were growing back faster.

_He’ll be too strong if this doesn’t end soon, _the thought came and I ignored it because there was _no _way I was getting close to Lung. At a certain point his fire became almost liquid-like and that was _bad. _

Dauntless jumped over a wave of fire, struck forward in quick succession while targeting Lung’s legs. Metal and chunks of skin were torn off, forcing Lung to land on all fours. The giant of a man called up fire to moved himself but Dauntless dashed forward, his shield eating away the fire and sending Lung tumbling through the sky and into the dirt.

Wings shot out of Lung’s back and fire shot from those wings to give Lung sudden upward thrust.

A thump reverberated, a glancing blow from Squealer’s turrets taking out a chunk of the wing. Lung went spinning, only to have Dauntless’ arclance take out more of his wing, keeping him off balance.

Lung landed on the ground, legs regrowing. Metal sprouted around his body, faster than the chunks Dauntless was taking away. Lung fired a column of fire and this time when it hit, Dauntless was pushed back.

I fired a beam and he thrust himself out of the way with a rush of fire, then quickly out of the way again as Squealer’s turret went off. Lung pushed himself forward, thrusting himself at Squealer. The motion was _quick _but the distance was too wide. Squealer worked to angle the car out of the way and she didn’t succeed.

Lung landed on Squealer’s shields and sent out a thin beam of fire; the shield tried to redirect the energy but it didn’t work completely, the fire speared through and caught the car, _sticking_ on impact. The shields gave way and Lung fell onto the car.

I caught as segments parted and how Lung was expecting it, a clawed arm already reaching to fire. I knew what would happen if that fire caught Squealer’s escape hatch. I quickly moved through settings and redirected all the energy I had into a beam. I pointed and shot. Lung, too focused on Squealer ignored the blast and I caught him in the side, sending him spinning away as Squealer’s escape hatch shot into the air.

Lung hit the ground hard, but I didn’t pay attention to him. A lot of my power was gone and the suit had switched into critical mode, all energy going to core systems. Redirecting gravity wasn’t one of them. I dropped out of the sky, having to _force _myself to angle right. I landed silently on clumps of burned grass and the sudden stop was turned into more energy.

_Still not enough to do anything useful. _

Squealer had been ignored as Dauntless fought Lung. He’d eaten away at the worst of the fire and kept it from spreading too quickly. But now he was on the attack. Fire met crackling electricity. Dauntless dashed to flank Lung and attacked with his arclance, taking away metal and flesh but not doing heavy damage_. _Lung pointed an arm in my direction and a column of fire started, slower than it usually moved. Dauntless got in its way, no longer trying to _dodge, _instead keeping the fire from reaching me.

_“Chariot move,” _he said and I heard desperation in his voice.

I used the energy I had to push myself away, but Lung got closer, using _me _as a hostage.

I landed and started to run, but with my power so low, I wasn’t faster than Lung and Dauntless.

In seconds they were close, two titans fighting. Dauntless activated his shield and ate away some of the fire, but parts of it were sticking, taking longer to extinguish. He extended his arclance and cut down Lung but the effect wasn’t as powerful, Lung was healing too quickly, his armour taking less damage.

A wave of fire almost rolled toward me before Dauntless appeared at my side, shielding me in his yellow-white bubble of electricity. The fire was kept at bay and even some of the heat was sucked away, but there was still enough for it to be _oppressive. _

_“Reinforcements,” _I heard. Even with the heat Dauntless didn’t move, giving Munsin a better target.

They appeared. Munsin with Battery, Assault, Triumph, Ashwind, Bombardier, Aegis, Clockblocker and Man Mod.

Because of Munsin’s power, they’d have thinker level awareness for the next five to ten minutes, and with all the training they’d done, they’d be _sure _to win this.

Man Mod and Aegis took to the air, Man Mod’s drone taking off after them. Ashwind let out her trademark ash in waves around us, some shining with glowing embers as it spread out. Dauntless cut out his shield and the fire rolled in, colliding into the ash and disappearing. 

The ash kept rolling out, going white hot with the more fire it ate before it started to dim. Dauntless jumped into the sky to join Aegis and Man Mod, while Battery and Assault moved in opposite directions, carrying large guns as they flanked Lung.

The man himself was bigger, trying his best to fire at _anyone _his fire could reach and failing.

“You okay, kid?” said Bombardier.

Clockblocker and Triumph were close. The latter bigger than the former, while Clockblocker carried his white halberd.

“Scared shitless,” I said, because I hadn’t moved since Lung had almost ganked me. I’d been stuck in place and I was _still _stuck in place.

“Gonna be okay now,” he said. Bombardier was a large guy, fat more than muscled, but the armour he had on was contorted just right to make him an imposing figure.

Above, Man Mod was delivering the most fire; his drone had split into four, firing torpedoes of light similar in colour to Dauntless’ arclance. Aegis kept dropping grenades when he could, bursts of sound and light that had Lung roaring, trying to fire at Aegis and failing. Dauntless hit where he could, quick strikes that tore at metal and flesh, forcing him to heal.

“Should I take him out?” said Munsin, his voice on the shakier end. Even with all the powers he had, he didn’t get into a direct fight all that much, most of his time was sent teleporting people to the right place.

_Lucky that we were able to get him so quickly in the first place. _

“We might need you,” said Triumph, he had seniority and thus lead our little group. “Have to protect Ashwind. Chariot, think you can handle this?”

I nodded even when I didn’t feel like it.

“Going off,” said Clockblocker. Triumph nodded and Clockblocker took off, shortening his halberd for an easier run.

Ashwind’s power _seemed _like it could eat away fire and heat, but what it really did was redirect it to other parts of her range. What she did most of the time was spread it out, disperse it so it wasn’t causing a lot of damage. But as long as she was doing that, she couldn’t _move. _It was especially bad when she had to keep track of the battlefield with only her power.

“Clear shot,” said Bombardier. He pointed a hand. The air cracked and drew a geometric shape that crackled and shook as it got more defined; a massive chunk of metal appeared and rocketed off. It cut through air and caught Lung at his side. The man was bowled over and before he could right himself Dauntless speared through his chest, sticking him in place.

Battery and Assault bounded forward, firing containment form. Lung responded by sending out a wave of fire but it quickly disappeared. Containment form landed and swelled, covering most of his lower body. Clockblocker shot a thread and it landed. Lung and the foam covering him stopped. The foam Battery and Assault were still firing slid off, collecting in places and expanding.

Less than a minute and Lung was almost fully covered.

_“Munsin,” _I heard

Munsin disappeared and appeared close to Lung. An image of a field with drones hanging overhead fixed itself to my mind as I watched Munsin touch Lung’s face, waiting for Clockblocker’s power to cut off.

Clockblocker’s power disappeared and the touch landed.

A stranger power that works in abstractions, for the next half-minute Lung would forget _something. _Either that he had powers, how to _use _them or maybe even how to fight.

The scenery shifted as all of us, except Ashwind, were teleported. Lung appeared without the containment foam but he struggled to even move. The drones above us let out a wave of foam just as Munsin disappeared. Lung was caught before his facilities could even come back.

***

I let out a breath I felt like I’d been holding in.

I wasn’t in costume; with the suit at low power-mode it was annoying to move, slow to react and it felt claustrophobic. I’d hooked it up to some power to recharge for the night. I now wore a shirt loose through age and newer pants Anita had given to me as a gift. They’d been her brother’s and he hadn’t liked them and she hadn’t wanted to throw them away. They were _comfortable, _which I loved and the fact that they were a gift meant I loved them even more.

I was at the Rig, in the common area of the Protectorate. The place was smaller than ours at the PRT building, likely because we had more staffers even if this place had the training areas. I’d been invited in after things had ended with Lung. The Young Protectors moved around me: Carlos hovering in the air with a towel over his shoulders; Dennis wearing sweatshirt and sweatpants; Chris wearing a short shirt and baggy shorts, wearing a gauntlet and playing his fingers through the air.

No PRT figures, but it was so late in the night that only the skeleton crew would be in.

“…which I don’t get,” said Chris. His eyes shone, a golden tinge to their normal brown, no doubt lenses that connected him to his system. “I know they’re pissed, but shutting us out?”

“We _do _deserve it,” said Dennis. He was laid back on a bench, his arms crossed as he stared at the ceiling. “We’re still on probation.”

_Which is sucky, _I thought, _because you did something good even if it wasn’t following procedure. _

I wanted to say that, but I didn’t really know these guys. I’d worked with them, but they were out of costume, now, and they weren’t exactly my friends. I couldn’t see a way that I could fit myself into their easy rhythm. The only person I really knew was Gallant and that had been cut short when he’d left the Wards to start his own team.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Chris. “Guess we do.” He turned to me. “Reviewed the footage and you were good out there. Kept your head.”

I smiled, butterflies starting up in my stomach and a lot of thoughts churning through my head. Since Armsmaster had left, Chris had become the best tinker in the city and it was _awesome _to hear the words from him. I took a breath, picked the thoughts that were the largest and let everything else simmer.

“Yeah?”

Chris nodded. “Saved Squealer even though it put you in low-power mode,” he said. “Real heroic.”

_There’s a lot of people who died though, _I thought. I hadn’t been told the number, but my cameras had picked up the picture and I’d know when I looked at the footage.

_My fault._

They’d been people who committed crimes, sure, but I had to look past that. Cousin Ramone had gotten jail time after steal food for his kid, then struggled to get a job for years until some program hiring ex-cons had started. Even now he struggled to pay bills, which made getting into some gang more attractive.

If shit like that could happen to him, then it could happen to other people. And if I could give _him _slack, then I had to give that slack to everyone else.

“More like stupid.” We turned. Shadow Stalker was at the door, dressed in full costume sans mask. “Squealer dies and its one less criminal out there. Should have let Lung finish her off. Especially since she offed a boat load of people before.”

My stomach clenched.

Carlos sighed. “Sophia,” he said. “You’re a pleasure as always.”

“Which is why you fuckers don’t invite me in any of the good stuff,” she muttered. “First Hookwolf and now this.”

“You can’t really blame us when you like turning off your comms,” said Carlos. “Munsin tried to call so he could find you and you were AWOL.”

“Busy with more important stuff,” she said with a shrug.

“Does it have anything to do with your job at that gym?” said Dennis.

Sophia turned to him, scowling. “You spying on me or something?”

“I was in the area and I saw you training some kids,” Dennis said with a shrug. “Got better things to do than to spy on you.”

“Are you having money problems?” said Carlos. “I could dip into savings, help you out if you need it.”

“It’s nothing to you,” Sophia muttered. Her eyes moved away from the others to me. I swallowed. I wasn’t scared of her, but I wasn’t _not _scared of her either. She’d been the leader a little after Gallant had left and she could be terrifying. Intense in a way that’d made the younger kids break out before she’d been sacked and I’d taken over. “You got video of the fight?”

“Yeah. Yes,” I said.

Chris shook his head.

“Give it to me on a drive, it’ll be cool to watch,” she said.

“That’ll be classified,” said Carlos. “Nothing in or out.”

“Then I’ll keep it on my work computer, _god,” _she said. “You don’t have to be so stiff.” She grinned. “But then you’re into that sort of thing, aren’t you?”

“Fuck you,” Carlos muttered, hands clenching. Sophia’s grin got wider and she shifted, preparing for a fight.

“You gonna start something?” she said. “Because I’m aching to bust someone’s jaw.”

“You are seriously _damaged, _you know that?” Carlos muttered. “Most of us forgive it because you’re dealing shit, but then you go and spread that shit around like this—”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sophia said, more on edge, more like she was going to go on the attack.

“I know that your mother threw you out,” said Carlos. “And I told you if you want to talk about it then you could come to me, lean on _us, _but you’re just a piece of shit that has to make everyone suffer.”

_I do not want to be here, _I thought, while sitting absolutely still.

Dennis looked uncomfortable, taking Sophia in, while Chris looked bored, his focus more on whatever he was tinkering. Carlos hung in the air, his features having softened, a tinge of guilt taking over.

“Fuck you,” Sophia muttered, swivelling around. “Came here to fetch all of you. Director Calvert’s joined the briefing and he wants all of us there.”

“Me too?” I said, a little surprised.

Sophia turned and scowled. “Did I stutter?” she said before she tromped off.

Chris walked close to me, throwing an arm over my shoulder.

“Don’t mind her,” he said. “I ignore her a lot of the time and I think my life’s easier because of it.” We walked. “That and I made this contact lens that means I can work while everyone is gabbing.”

“Maybe that’s a good idea,” I said because I still felt uncomfortable. Carlos and Dennis were talking in soft words, but the little I could hear was Dennis consoling Carlos about the outburst.

“Anyway I was thinking we start working together, you know?” said Chris. “I’ve hit this stagnation point. I’ve hit my stride and I haven’t changed a lot of the stuff I’ve made except for minor restructuring in systems.”

“I get it,” I said. “I’ve been wanting to do teleportation for a while now, but that would mean taking apart my armour and I don’t want to do that. It would mean _months _of being inactive, speaking to Branding to get changes in aesthetic approved not to mention _testing._”

_“Man,” _said Chris, smiling easily. “I remember when I was all about that. Most of me wants to tell you don’t do it because you might not finish your project. But I have the sense you don’t have the same problem.”

I shook my head. “Finishing is hard because I get all these new ideas about stuff to add into the suit, but I finish my work,” I said. “You weren’t like that?”

He shook his head. “Took me a bit before I figured things out,” he said. “Glad that I did.”

“Your speciality is abstract so I get it,” I said. “You’re…tech that falls apart, right?”

“Modular tech,” he said. “Tech with different functions and settings. A lot of my suit is just pieces that detach, can do numerous things and come together in different settings.”

“That…explains a lot,” I said.

“Yeah?”

I nodded. “I spend a lot of time just scoping through the tinker database for ideas or maybe things that have been done so I don’t have to waste the time,” I said. He nodded. “Anyway, a lot of what I saw when I was looking at your stuff is that it felt incomplete. I could still use it as a base, but then I’d have to deal with the harder prospect of integration.”

“Have you looked at the stuff Armsmaster left?” he said.

I groaned. “His tech is just a mess. Yours felt like they were incomplete, but with him there was just a _lot _of stuff that was missing, essential stuff that felt like tech wouldn’t work if it wasn’t there, but his _magically _worked.”

Chris let out a chuckle. “Thing I noticed a lot from him was that he was good at shaving his stuff to be a thin as possible while not increasing the electrical resistance. Building patterns that increase durability without the added weight, a lot of it was turning materials into meta-materials, giving them different properties, that sort of thing.”

“You can do that?” I said.

“You have a computer on you?” he asked.

“My phone,” I said, pulling it out. It was thicker than smart phones usually were, but that was because the thing was more powerful than a lot of laptops. Chris took it and it locked; he raised a brow. “I modded it to lock if it’s held by anyone except me.”

“Thumb print?”

I shook my head. “I move a certain way, my gait, breathing, the peculiarity of how my heart beats, that sort of thing is coded into the phone. It detects that and it’ll lock if it’s used by anyone else. Had to build the phone from scratch to make a detection system that sensitive. Also made it so the battery charges everyone time I move.”

Chris looked at me, his eyes wide. “You _fuckin’ _genius,” he said. “I increased the battery capacity on mine. There are about three units that can act as batteries which means it can be used for a week without having to be charged, but if _all _of them run out it’s a pain to charge—”

“How many times do you forget to charge it?” I said, grinning.

“Always,” said Chris. “I think it’s because I don’t have to do it a lot so I don’t get into the habit.” He shrugged. “I was thinking of making easy in, easy out batteries. Slot units in and leave others to recharge, but maybe I can steal your thing so I can never have to worry about it again?”

“Yeah. I’ll send you my data,” I said.

Chris showed me the info on the meta-materials while we were walking. I noticed that they weren’t from any tinker we had in the Protectorate, but from his private servers. When I looked at most of the stuff they were labelled under the folder ‘Origami Tinker’.

“Origami tinker?” I said.

Chris hesitated. 

“Ask me after this,” he finally said and I nodded.

The conference room was already full when we arrived. With Protectorate and some PRT staffers whose duties I couldn’t remember present. Though I did know the three captains of various squads, the Deputy Director, the Director’s Assistant and Director Calvert himself.

“There’s some empty seats,” said Chris, pointing at the back, as far from Sophia as possible.

“Good,” said Director Calvert, looking up from his tablet. “We’re all here.”

He was a tall man, thin and pot-bellied. He had a narrow, sharp face, with large ears and a wide nose. He was also black, which I loved. It was a hit against the Nazi’s delusion that they were the only people strong enough to lead Brockton Bay to anything good. I didn’t have anything against Director Piggot, I’d never really known her, but the fact that Director Calvert was the one cleaning up E88 was something I loved on a symbolic level.

“Let’s begin and break things down as quickly as we can,” he said. “It’s getting late and I’m sure a lot of you are tired. For those who don’t know, Lung was captured. We have him in a holding cell in New York, with Legend there, anyone who would try to break him out is unlikely to succeed. I’ve called in a few favours, and thinkers predict he’ll be sent to the Birdcage.”

“First the Merchants were taken out, now the ABB,” said Assault. “Might be this place is actually getting better. They _are _done, right?”

“The thinkers I’ve spoken to say yes,” he said. “But even without asking from thinkers, we knew that the only element that held the ABB together was Lung’s strength. With that gone, they’ll splinter.”

“What about Oni Lee?” said Dauntless. “He could lead the gang.”

“Oni Lee isn’t the leader type,” Battery answered. “He’s good in a combat situation but looking at his stats shows he’s been leaning more on Lung’s direction. He stopped running his own missions like the old days.”

“It’s long been hypothesised that there might be negative consequences to his powers,” said Director Calvert. “But that hasn’t been verified.”

“ABB’s done, so this is when we focus on the E88, right?” said Dennis.

“We were always focusing on them,” said Director Calvert. “But this may mean we devote more resources in taking them down. However, it won’t be that easy. Another word from thinkers says we’re likely to see more capes sprouting from Lung’s demise.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Chris.

I raised a hand. I caught a smile from Director Calvert while Sophia snorted. “Yes, Chariot,” said Director Calvert.

“Um…I know a kid, she’s seven, that triggered,” I said. “Her older sister was a tinker and she was killed while working for Lung. The girl’s mother has been hiding the fact that her daughter’s triggered because Lung’s people have been watching her.” I shrugged. “Maybe there are a lot more people like that.”

“You didn’t lead the girl into the Protectorate?” said the Deputy Director.

“Her mother didn’t want to and I didn’t think it would be safe,” I said with a shrug. “I know about all the red-tape it took to get my trust fund money moved so my Mom and me lived in a better place. Thought something like that would happen here.”

“That’s a worrying sentiment,” said Dauntless. “People, even our own, not trusting the Protectorate and PRT.”

“Can you blame them, though?” said Sophia. “We’ve got fuckin—”

“Language,” said Battery.

“Sorry,” Sophia said. “We’ve got Purity flying around like she doesn’t have a record and the Protectorate isn’t doing anything about it. Why would they trust us?”

“The elephant in the room,” said Director Calvert. “I think that might be part of the new faces we’ll see over the recent months. That and people who come in to fill the vacuum resulting from Lung’s capture, hopefully it won’t get to the point of Boston Games.”

“That’d be just what we need,” Triumph muttered.

“Though it might be fun,” said Bombardier. He sat when scowls where directed at him.

“What we do have to worry about most of all is that there’s a growing sentiment online that the Protectorate only protects white people,” said Director Calvert.

“Which is patently false, but you can’t prove that to people,” Triumph muttered.

“A lot about what we do is performative,” said Director Calvert. “People have to _feel _safe. We can’t blame them if they’re not.”

“Especially when we’re _not _apprehending criminals,” said Sophia. “I get what you’re all saying, but I hope I’m not the only one who gets what this is about. Purity, Rune, Night and Fog are criminals with active warrants out for them. We’re ignoring that for optics.”

“We are,” Battery admitted.

“And we all understand why we’re doing this,” said Director Calvert. “We need more people to be open to making the turn from villains to heroes. If we arrest _them—” _

“Optics,” said Sophia.

“I’ll thank you not to interrupt me, Shadow Stalker,” said Director Calvert, the geniality gone from his voice.

“Sorry, _sir,” _she said.

“There has to be another way, though,” said Battery. “We can’t have _this. _We can’t have every villain deciding on their own how the rules are applied to them, it’s fraught for abuse.”

“Assault?” said the Director.

He’d been quiet, which was odd for him, but maybe this was how he was in meetings.

“They shouldn’t decide on their own,” he said. “When I made the turn, I moved away from New York because it was better. There were relationships there and they would have made me backtrack if I’d stayed around them. The Pure could fall into that trap.”

“I think I might have a way forward, but I’ll have to discuss it with the Mayor, Police Commissioner and the DA. I’ll hand out a brief when everything has been set in motion. As of now, the matter that should be most dealt with is the Boat Graveyard. We’ll have to put up a cease and desist of The Pure’s actions. I’ll call in favours to continue the work, but it shouldn’t be _them _that do it.”

“Optics,” said Sophia.

“Yes, optics,” said the Director. “If people accept us then our jobs become easier. We’ve been seeing a rise in people not calling the Protectorate in the Lower Bay, instead letting the Brotherhood deal with any cape crime.”

“That place already has a bad relationship with the police,” said Triumph.

“You say that like it’s their fault,” my mouth said. Everyone turned to me and I blushed, looking down.

“He’s right,” said Carlos. “People in the Lower Bay don’t trust the police or the Protectorate. I’ve heard about people turning to the Brotherhood instead.”

“Speaking of,” said Director Calvert. “The Brotherhood…?”

“Has been quiet,” said Battery. “We expect there’ll be more of a move from them with Lung’s territory out for grabs. This will mean fights breaking out between them and Den Mother’s gang. E88 might also become more active, they’ve been quiet since Hookwolf was captured and this might be opportunity to act.”

“Definite on that,” said Sophia. “They _tried _to hold a rally tonight, but Coil’s people managed to shoot Overman before he disappeared.”

“Coil’s people are attacking capes now?” said Dauntless. “I thought the FBI were dealing with them.”

“They’re harder to disentangle than first thought,” Director Calvert explained. “They have a number of fronts and are exceptionally good at hiding illicit gains. Not to mention that it feels like they’re giving away most of their money.”

“Giving it away?” I asked. I knew that Coil’s people existed, but they weren’t cape business and I didn’t pay attention to them. The were rumours that they held territory in the Trainyard, my backyard, but I hadn’t seen any sign of that.

“We know of three non-profit organisations helmed by people held under duress by Coil’s people,” he said. “They all follow a similar pattern. There was misappropriation of funds, transactions under the book, initiatives that didn’t work when they should, and then things magically changed and operations ran smoothly. Some came in and went to the right places. The FBI got two people to crack, they told us that they were being blackmailed, their families threatened, but they didn’t know by who. When the FBI tried to get them to be spies, they died shortly after, natural causes seemingly.”

“This is an organised operation,” said Battery.

Director Calvert nodded.

“Do we suspect any cape involvement?” Dauntless asked.

“The FBI are being tight-lipped with their information,” he said. “It took quite a bit to get this much and I don’t want to overplay my hand. But no, none that they’ve noticed. Just people good at doing what they’re doing.”

“Dumb,” said Triumph. “When we should all be working together.”

“This is about funds,” said the Deputy Director. “If the Protectorate and PRT solved this, they’d get less money next year.”

Triumph sighed. “I know how these things work, trust me,” he muttered. “Just…irritated.”

“We’ll do our best,” said Director Calvert. “For now, we have more active concerns and we’ll sort those out. We’ll let the FBI do their work, but as our victories accumulate, we’ll have more bargaining power and I’ll be able to use that to give us a better working relationship with the FBI and Brockton Bay’s police force.”

It felt like the natural stopping point but it wasn’t, there was a lot more to talk about, shifted schedules and patrols. There would have to be a lot more Crises Points and just a general level of being out in public, showing civilians that we were fighting the good fight and patrols with police.

All of it was _so _boring when I was tired and I wanted to run diagnostics on my suit and then go to sleep.

I glanced at Chris and noticed his fingers moving beneath the desk.

_I really have to build something like that for myself._

Chris threw an arm over my shoulders as the meeting ended.

“How’s your week looking?” he said.

“I’ve got some tinker time saved up and I’m going to be using that for a while,” I said. “Think I’ll rework the suit, coding, that sort of thing. Nothing major.”

“Tomorrow, at about ten in the a-m until maybe six, you think you can be free?” he asked.

“Gotta brief my team in the morning then yeah,” I said. “Why?”

“Better if you’re just surprised,” he said. “Tomorrow. Bring your laptop.”

Before I could ask anything else, he left and I was left confused.

***

Mom was asleep when I got home and I was so tired that I wasn’t up for dinner. After what felt like a blink, it was morning and Mom was already in the kitchen, the smell of coffee filling our apartment.

“Missed you last night,” she said as I shambled into the kitchen, hand wiping the crust from my eyes. I walked to the fridge and pulled out a carton of apple juice, drinking it from the carton.

Mom was dressed casually, but the clothes were good quality. Katash offered discount on clothes for employee purchases and Mom had used hers to make herself more presentable.

“Late work,” I said. “We got Lung.”

She stopped, looking up from checking over her purse.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I was mostly out of the way. I was patrolling with Dauntless before Munsin came in with reinforcements.”

She let out a relieved breath. She swallowed and nodded. “Lung,” she said. “He’s in jail.”

“In New York,” I said, smiling. “Boss says he’s gonna be sent to the Birdcage.”

_“God,” _Mom said. “It feels like things might be actually changing for the better in this city for once.”

“Still a lot of shit,” I muttered. Mom gave me a look. “Sorry,” I said. “I just woke up. I’m still tired.”

“Not an excuse,” she said. I shrugged. “Going in today?”

“Building stuff with Man Mod,” I said. “Fix up the suit.”

“Are they giving you any off days,” she said. “I don’t want you losing your summer because you’ll be working. You’re still a kid and you should do kid things.”

“I’m seventeen and it’s gonna be fun,” I said. “It’s been a while since I talked to another tinker. It’ll be cool to spend the day with Chris.”

Mom smiled, giving me a look so long it felt almost uncomfortable.

“What?” I said.

She shook her head. “I’ll be home late. I’ve got a meeting tonight.”

“Okay,” I said.

She closed her bag. “Gotta go. You’ll stay safe?”

I nodded. I pulled out my phone and trawled the internet. I had about fifty messages from Eric and seven from Addy. The latter had heard from his Dad that I’d fought Lung and Eric wanted the footage much like Sophia had.

I sent both a text telling them that I was off the day after tomorrow and we could spend the day together. News about Lung hadn’t reached the public sphere yet, but it was a matter of time before either Dauntless or the Director called a press briefing. There was news about Parian and how she’d employed three parahumans to work at the Dollhouse. They were rogues from out of town and they’d revealed their identities and powers.

“Good for her,” I muttered, a part of me relieved that E88 hadn’t been so ballsy that they’d attacked her studio. But then something like that was sure to start something between them and the Brotherhood.

I made myself some breakfast, ate, showered, changed clothes before I went three floors up and knocked on apartment 510. It took a good few minutes before Mrs Phan opened the door.

“Trevor,” she said with a heavy accent. The lines around her eyes getting starker. She looked around before glancing in her apartment. “Something wrong?”

“No,” I said and I smiled. “Actually, good news. It’s not out yet, but we caught Lung last night. He’s imprisoned in New York.”

Mrs Phan slumped, her eyes closing and tears spilling.

“He gone?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Director said he’d be sent to the Birdcage. He talked to some thinkers and they think the ABB might break up. There might be other gangs, but they’ll be easier to deal with. Not like Lung.”

She moved forward and gave me a hug. “Thank you, Trevor. Thank you _very _much.”

“I know you said no before,” I said. “But having Linh join the Wards would be a good thing. It’d keep her safe so she can’t be used by the gangs.”

Mrs Phan shook her head. “Her sister was cape. Now she dead. Not my only daughter left.”

“She wouldn’t have to fight,” I said. “That’s not what being a Ward’s about. It’s about having a safe space to use your powers. A place where she can be around people like herself. You’ve been lucky, that her powers stayed quiet. But powers are set off if they aren’t used.”

“She…broke our table,” said Mrs Phan. “Not her fault. Her doll.”

“You could just have her come in,” I said. “Spend the day. Meet the others while you talk to our minders. They’ll tell you more than I can.”

“Is safe? For you?” she said.

“I’m older so I choose to go out,” I said. “But the younger kids don’t. You’ll be in control. You’ll set the boundaries of what Linh can and can’t do.”

She hesitated before she nodded. “I come. It okay I come now?”

_Got stuff to do, _I thought, but said, “Sure. I can show Linh around.”

I sent a message to give the at the PRT time to set up while I went back to our apartment, picked up stuff I’d need for the day and waiting for Mrs Phan and Linh. I called up a car and we got in, getting in the back of the PRT building and being led down to the reception.

“I’ll take you to meet the Wards that have just arrived,” I said to Linh.

“Other heroes?” she said, excited. She held a Raggedy Ann doll close to her, the thing limp as it was carried around. She wore an excited smile, practically bouncing.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll watch you and your mommy will go away for a bit to speak to other people, okay?”

“Okay,” said Linh. I looked up at Mrs Phan and she gave me a thin smile.

When we got to the lowest floor, my team was already there in costume. Dazzling Daydream, her armour suffused with a rainbow array of colour, she hovered in the air and she manipulated the light in her cape to make it flutter. Princess Starburst had on her costume of fire, a long dressed made of reds and golds, gloves that looked delicate even with their darker red; her hair had been cut short, but she’d filled it in with dark red fire, now it felt to her shoulders. Brass Knuckler wore dark colours, blacks and reds, bulky in a way that made his weight pronounced, at his fists were spikey, _gold _knuckles.

Linh let out a delighted squeal.

Linh glowed with blue light before it surged into her doll. The thing filled in, getting plump before it came to life. It dropped from her hand and stopped in the air before it could reach the ground. It hovered there.

“That is _so _awesome,” said Princess Starburst. “Can she talk?”

“No,” said Linh. “But Mary Sue is strong and does everything I tell her to do.”

“How strong?” said Brass Knuckler. “I’m strong too. Maybe we can arm wrestle?”

“Mary Sue,” said Linh. “Would you like to arm wrestle a hero?”

The doll flew forward, getting a bit of height and holding up a hand. Brass Knuckler held up a hand and the doll held up its own. The doll pushed, almost dropping Brass Knuckler’s arm before he pushed back. He added a little too much heft and the doll was pushed wholly away.

The doll started flying against Brass Knuckler’s arm, struggling to push him back.

I looked at Dazzling Daydream, pointed at my eyes and then the kids. She nodded. I turned back to Mrs Phan.

“We should go speak to the rep,” I said.

She gave her daughter a forlorn expression before she nodded and turned with me. I took Mrs Phan to the rep, sent a text to Man Mod to tell him I’d be a little late before I got back to our base. The kids had moved to the TV while Dazzling Daydream hung back, watching them with her arms crossed.

“New recruit?” said Daydream. She was the next oldest at a year younger than me, but she was the newest Ward. Princess Starburst had been the first, she’d been thirteen when she’d joined and now, she was almost fifteen; Brass Knuckler was fourteen, and he’d only been with us form ten months.

“Hopefully,” I said. “Her mother’s scared about her being a cape. Her daughter died working for Lung.”

_“Fuck,” _said Daydream. “I hope things turn out well for them.”

“Me too,” I said. “Can you lead things today? Gotta work on my tech.”

“Fight with Lung mess it up?” she said.

I shook my head, giving her a thin smile. “Not the fight,” I said. “I burned out my batteries. Left it to charge over night, but I want to rework it, switch things up so that I’m not as useless the next time a fight that big pops up.”

She nodded. “Schedules are on the computer?” she said.

I nodded.

It was a while before Mrs Phan was back.

“Will she be back?” I asked.

“We try,” said Mrs Phan. “We see if work. Thank you, Trevor.”

“It’s not a problem,” I said.

I texted Chris that I was free and I got a return to wait for him outside. I got my heavy-duty laptop and put it in my backpack, then went back and picked up some of my essential tools before going back outside again. Chris arrived out of costume.

“Follow,” he said. We walked for a bit, the PRT building getting out of sight. We walked into an alley blocked off by a pile of trash. I kept quiet, hands in pocket. Chris pulled out a thin remote with two buttons, he pressed one and a line appeared in the air, expanding into a door.

My eyes opened wide and so did my mouth.

“Toybox,” I said.

“Toybox,” Chris said with a grin. He pointed his hand towards the portal. _“Come with me, and you’ll see, a world of pure imagination.” _

I followed without a second thought.

“How?” I asked, as I moved through. The place was disappointingly small, just a workspace that felt like Chris’ but with different tech. There was a bulky computer on one side of the room, thick tubes stretching popping out of the ground to connect to massive boxes. There was a whole manner of tech, finished pieces and those still in progress, others hooked up to others and a lot of _stuff _in general. The room itself was painted red and gold, large enough it wasn’t claustrophobic, but enough that I was disappointed.

“The whole thing with Armsmaster,” said Chris. The door behind him closed but he watched it for a few seconds. He took a breath, looking at me. “It showed me how…screwy things are. We sign the contracts never really expecting the _bad _to happen, but that sort of showed me it does, you know?”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t.”

“Your tech isn’t yours,” I said. “It’s yours in theory but in essence its government property. If you leave, then you’d better hope that you leave on good terms and they’ll give it to you or you’ll end up in an Armsmaster situation.”

“I never got the full story from that,” I said. “People don’t talk about it.”

“Blame was levelled at him,” said Chris. “He was the leader and he’d be failing for a while; this was the straw that broke the camel’s back, that sort of thing. When they tried to put _this _on him, when they tried to get Velocity fired for incompetence, he wasn’t up for it and he made a fuss. People thought he wasn’t remorseful enough and he didn’t play into. It ended with talks about him stepping down from leadership, being _demoted,_ and he wasn’t up for it. He left and they retaliated, keeping his tech, _wanting _to keep his blueprints but they don’t have rights to those.

“They got to take his name, though, all the recognition, all the money he earned from that. He had to change his image because that was Protectorate, something _they’d _crafted and curated. Never mind that _he _was the one who did all the work.”

Chris’ resentment was almost palpable. He stopped, took a breath and smiled.

“Sorry for being a downer.”

“Nah. It’s okay,” I said. “It’s…scary when you think about it.”

“Scary losing stuff that’s yours,” said Chris. “I didn’t care about it before, when everything I built was shit. But now I can build amazing stuff and I’m worried about this feeling of the wrong day meaning I lose all of it.”

“So you contacted Toybox?”

He nodded. “Dug around until I managed to talk to Blasto,” he said.

“Blasto the villain?”

“Yeah. He’s a chill guy a lot of the time,” said Chris. “Gave me some _premium _weed too—” He stopped, his eyes going wide. “Smoking weed’s _bad.” _

“Right,” I said.

“Anyway, he pointed me here,” Chris continued. “Tinkers _get _it, that it’s nice to work on your own and he even helped me a little. Gave me some credit so I could establish myself in the early days.” He looked at me. “Which is why I want to pay it forward.”

“To me?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “The tech you build is _amazing,_ but it’s limited. I’ve looked at the data of you early days and now. You were more innovative then and you’ve sort of settled now, you have what works and you keep using it. Maybe it’s because your speciality is more refinement or whatever, but I think it’s the environment. All the bullshit work you have to go through to build anything new, how you have to keep your costume the same or it’s a week with Branding. Here there’s freedom.”

“But these people sell their tech to bad guys,” I said. “Some of them are villains.”

_“You _get to choose who you sell your tech to,” said Chris. “Who you show some of your stuff to. No one forces you to do anything here, just make sure that profits go into the pool. Don’t cause any trouble when it comes to supplies, that sort of thing.”

“This is…I didn’t expect this.”

“You don’t have to decide now,” said Chris. “You can do it after.” He pointed at the computer. “Full access to the S-F-W stuff I have on my computer. Look it over, all the resources I can get, all the stuff I’ve drawn up that the Protectorate wouldn’t approve and some of the parts I’d get for cheap.”

“Sure,” I said and I moved over. Chris worked while I looked over everything. There were twelve other tinkers who worked at the Toybox, but Stinger’s tech took up my attention: She seemed to specialise in jet packs in part, but instead of the bulky things most people had, she’d moved on to the point where she’d turned herself into a cyborg.

I’d heard about this, tinkers who worked their tech into themselves and as terrifying as it was, the option was cool and something that had my brain working. I could think of integration of tech and _me, _making myself move with the grace of a thinker, all the perks of having power armour without something _big. _

But when I thought about how the Protectorate would react, I didn’t think that would get through. One, it was dangerous, and two, it would be hard for the tech to be tested for approval. Not to mention that it would be ugly, and Branding didn’t like anything ugly.

I caught sight of Cradle’s tech in one of the folders and it was adjacent to what I’d need if I wanted to turn cyborg. He was a prosthetics tinker, but his stuff was a lot more about using the electrical signals in the body than digging into musculature and changing it directly. Maybe I could rework my body for better motion, change how electrical signals worked, or maybe just implant memories that would make me a better fighter because Cranial was a part of Toybox had he could make neural interfaces.

I pushed everything else aside and I focused on Cranial, looking at the bits of insight his tech offered. Everything else was in the realm of fantasy, but I could actually do something actionable with the last. Instead of how _complicated _my suit was, I could just build a neural interface to ease control.

Chris jolted me out of my reverie.

“Food?” he said.

“Yeah. Thanks,” I said. “This…is amazing.”

He grinned. “So?”

“…We could get in trouble for this,” I said.

“It’s our spare time. As far as I know, it’s not restricted,” he said. “As long as we aren’t doing anything illegal.”

“Fuck me,” I muttered. “I’d hate myself if I said no to this.”

“Then don’t,” said Chris. “Six months trial period. See how you like it.”

I didn’t even have to think about it before I nodded. Chris whooped.

“Now let me show you the rest of this place,” he said, another door opened and _this _time I was impressed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check my profile for a list of characters for this story.

**Taylor Hebert**

“So,” said Sophia when I rolled into Sasha’s the next day. There were heavy clouds over the city, which felt apt considering my mood. I did my best to keep my expression even. Sophia, though, looked like the cat who’d caught the canary. “You’re a cape.”

“Morning, Sophia,” I muttered as I pushed past her. She followed after me, too close for my comfort. The gym was empty, Gretchen and Kevin hadn’t arrived yet and Sasha usually didn’t come in this early. I made my way straight for my office.

I’d spoken with Alphonso so he spoke with the others. The message had been passed along and we would meet to discuss everything later today. Which gave me the opportunity to figure as much as I could from Sophia so we could come up with a plan of attack.

She closed the door behind her and sauntered to a seat. I shrugged down my bag and booted up my computer.

“You going to say anything, Hebert?” she said.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked.

“I want you to explain what the fuck you’ve been doing for the last two years,” she said. “I watched from the rooftop last night and I’m _sure _you’re rolling with Coil’s people. So what’s that about?”

_At least that__’s still a card in our pocket, _I said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “I’m not a cape and I’m not part of some gang.”

Recording someone without their knowledge was illegal and all evidence derived was inadmissible, but I couldn’t take the chance that Sophia didn’t have anything up her sleeve.

She snorted. “I’m not recording you,” she said. “If I _was, _you’d already be screwed because the Protectorate records everything nowadays. They’d have seen our little fight last night and you’d be in cuffs, if I wanted it.”

I didn’t say anything. My computer had booted up and I turned towards it. The monitor couldn’t be seen from Sophia’s side of the desk, which meant she couldn’t see as I aimlessly clicked around, opening empty docs and pulling up spreadsheets that were already complete.

“You know,” she said. “I could just tell the Protectorate everything. Tell them about you being a part of Coil’s crew. Sure they can’t arrest you, your word against mine, but they could tail you and stop whatever the fuck you’re doing.”

“And I could get a restraining order or something,” I said.

She smiled. “As if that would actually work,” she said. “The Protectorate has good lawyers on staff. You’d run out of money before things got finished. Not to mention that most judges are gonna side with the Protectorate than some fuckwit like you.”

I sighed. “What do you want, Sophia?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I want us to go to the DMDA so you can challenge Uber and can kick his ass,” she said.

“Really?” I said. “You think you could get me arrested and that’s the petty shit you pull?”

“It’s more fun to have a lackey than to get you arrested,” she said with a shrug. “Show me your schedule so I can decide when we have free time.”

“I’m busy today,” I told her.

“Right,” she said. “Gotta speak to your bosses so they figure out the next step, don’t you?” She smirked and I had to hold back the urge to punch her in her smug face. “You know, if people know that Coil’s group has a cape, you’ll be the Protectorate’s problem. And they can kick your ass faster the cops or the Feds can.”

_I wonder what the blow back would be like if I killed you just now. _

But the thought wouldn’t get us anywhere. Doing something that _big _would need me to talk with the other Masters so they could factor Sophia’s death into whatever plots they had running. For now, it was better to just go along with this until I had time to talk to the others.

I knew her schedule and I knew she’d be busy most of today. I had no idea if she really cared about the job, but it was worth a try as tactics went. I pulled up my schedule, which showed I was free in the mid-afternoon for a few hours before I had to come back at the evening to do some admin work. She had classes at the same times, which close up her diary.

“Lucky break, Hebert,” she said. “You get the day off. But know, if I mysteriously disappear, everything I know will be sent to the Director of the PRT.”

“Sure,” I said. “Can you leave? I have work to do.”

“Nah,” she said. She pulled out her phone, reclined on my desk and tipped her chair back.

_Don__’t let her bait you, _I thought, but I couldn’t help it. Sophia, Emma and Madison were vestiges of my past, but the hurt they’d brought me wasn’t something I could just forget. Her being here, being part of the life I’d made for myself, fucking pissed me off.

I kicked my desk and it lurched forward. Sophia’s chair tipped back. She started to lean forward and noticed me stand. Her eyes widened for a moment before she let herself fall back. She landed with a loud crash, rolled back and came up. Her eyes narrowed as they took me in.

“Fucking get out of my office, Sophia, or I’ll leak your identity online,” I said, my anger barely restrained.

“You know that in this town that could get me or my family killed right?” she said.

“I don’t fucking care about you or your family,” I told her. “I care about the life I have. The one you’re set on ruining. Get off my fucking back or I’ll make sure you do.”

She let out a short breath. “You know, even if you managed to grow balls after your old man kicked it,” she said, “it doesn’t make you the shit. You mess with me and I’ll hit you back.”

“Get out of my office,” I said, staring her down.

She shrugged and left, closing my door too loudly. I fixed the chair that had dropped and went to sit behind my desk. I closed my eyes for a good few minutes, working to calm the tension I felt at my shoulders before I started to do my work.

I had two classes before a long break and I used that to take a cab to the Market Street Mall. I bought a movie ticket for a very boring movie, got into an empty cinema and went out of the emergency exit that lead outside. From there, it was a short walk into the sewers, then taking a few turns before I met an abandoned tunnel. Another good walk and I came to a fork. I took the right way into a tunnel short up by rotten would and walked until I found a cramped cavern.

The others were all there, all nine of my Den Masters and through the low light of candles arrayed around the cavern, I saw their worried expressions.

“Finally,” said Max. He’d healed from his injuries during the fight with the Undersiders. A narrow man with dark skin and eyes that were usually cold and pale, though seemed warmer because of the candlelight. “We were starting to get worried.”

He led the Rioters, which were a group of active combatants that had a lot in common with the Brawlers and Handlers. Where the Brawlers and Handlers were straight up fighters, the Rioters preferred ambush tactics, using flash and smoke grenades to control the environment and pick off their targets.

“I had to be on the lookout in case Sophia followed me,” I said.

“You weren’t followed?” said Klara. She looked like the quintessential suburban wife. A little shorter than average with rich blonde hair, nails that had been manicured and a grace to her visible even with how she stood.

“I wasn’t,” I said. “I checked, moved through crowds and used an entrance I knew would be hard to track me through.”

Klara nodded, her expression almost imperious.

A lot of our group was made up of killers and thieves, but her group was one of the two I found the scariest. Klara’s unit was the Infiltrators, she had three people under her, but she had raised them up into the most effective unit of the order. Her group dealt with subtle assassinations, primarily making things look like accidents or natural deaths and blackmail, but her targets were people so protected that it took months to get close.

We’d wanted the DA dead to usher in a better candidate and Klara’s unit had been the one to carry it out. A year after the fact and the death was still thought of as an accident. She and her unit had also taken down the major shareholder of Pylon Inc when we’d wanted the shares to pass to the woman’s son, and that still hadn’t been connected to us.

“Right off the bat,” said Manuel, his voice easy. “Do the Protectorate know about us?”

All eyes turned to me. “I don’t think so,” I said. “She might have been lying, but Sophia implied that she hadn’t told them about us. She also thinks I’m working for Coil’s people.”

“Does she think you’re important to the group?” said Darran. He was one of the older members of the group. He was a tall man, muscular around the arms and legs, but with a potbelly. He had wisps of grey in his hair and at his moustache. When he spoke, he reminded me a lot of a teacher and after two years working with him I still hadn’t figured out why.

He was the leader of the Prowlers. They did what Klara’s unit did but less specialised. The Infiltrators were for high ranking assassinations while the Prowlers dealt with the everyman. The distinction was similar to Alphonso and Ammar’s units: the former lead the Brawlers, whose training was specialised towards dealing with capes, and the latter lead the Handlers, whose training was better suited for battles against common mooks.

“Sophia still thinks I’m the girl that went to high school with her,” I told them. “I don’t think it would cross her mind that I lead you.”

“We should kill her,” said Max.

Manuel snorted. “Of course _you__’d _say that,” he muttered.

Max opened his mouth to say something but Klara interrupted him. “Killing a member of the Protectorate would call a lot of attention to us,” she said.

“If you hadn’t noticed, it feels like there’s already a lot of attention on us,” said Max. “First the Undersiders and now Shadow Stalker walks up to our boss and asks for a job.”

“She seemed surprised that I worked there when we first met,” I said.

“Any good actor would,” Klara put in and since that sort of thing was in her wheelhouse, I didn’t think I could refute her.

“There might be something we’re missing,” said Kimiko. “Information we need that could make the whole picture make sense.”

“Maybe for Shadow Stalker, but will we be able to do the same thing for the Undersiders?” Max asked. He crossed his arms. “It feels like it’s only a matter of time before we’re burned and the secret is out.”

“Why does it feel like you want us to throw away the secrecy?” Harry asked. He was a little on the fat sight with pudgy cheeks and too big glasses. He was the youngest person present excluding me, though that still put him in his mid-twenties.

He led the Tormentors, a group that specialised in propaganda. His unit almost never saw direct combat, but he’d been instrumental in efforts to get public officials we wanted elected or spreading the reach of certain stories.

“I mean, why not?” said Max.

“Because it would be _disastrous,__” _said Harry. “Right now people don’t know about us, which means they can’t pin us down. We’re just a gang that doesn’t have powers and without any real influence, but if we show them how strong we are, they devote attention to us and that lets them figure us out.”

“The Undersiders already know,” said Max.

“And they haven’t told anyone about us,” Harry countered. “They’ve been quiet. We still have no idea what they’re trying to do, but we shouldn’t get ahead of them on that.”

Max sighed and crossed his arms.

Alphonso let out a long sigh. He was the tallest person present and the broadest. “We won’t agree with anything if it’s only us that are talking,” he said. “We are too different.”

“Too stubborn too,” said Ammar. His eyes turned towards me. “You’re our leader.”

“I let you do what you think is best,” I said. “You’ve been doing well.”

“Because we haven’t had to work together,” said Ammar. “Not really.”

“Joanna,” I said. She started a little. This was her first meeting at the table and she’d mostly quiet. “You’re a new set of eyes. What do you think?”

“I…don’t know,” she said. She took a breath and her eyes steeled. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to fight the Protectorate. They’re too strong and they have allies. New Wave and the Gilded. They’ll have help if they need it.”

“We still have to deal with Shadow Stalker, though,” said Max. “We have to deal with the Undersiders some way. We can’t just let those problems lie and hope that they disappear on their own.”

I took a deep breath, counted to ten and then let it out. “We can’t kill her,” I said. “Not without it complicating things. But we can try to find something that will take her out of the picture. We move her up to a priority one, anything in her past we find that can give her less influence. I threatened to out her civilian identity, so make sure this can’t be traced back to me in case she asks for help from her tinker friends.”

Harry nodded.

“The Undersiders…are too much of a danger,” I said. “We can’t tackle them on our own.”

“We could hire mercenaries,” said Ammar. “Powered mercenaries. We have money and we could use that.”

“That’s a _lot _of money,” said Kimiko.

“The price of dealing with capes,” Ammar said with a shrug. “I have contacts out of the city. I could tap them to get reliable people.”

I nodded. “It might be worth doing that,” I said, “and we’ll have to ramp up our income generating activities.”

“We might be able to,” said Kimiko. “It hasn’t become news yet, but Lung was arrested last night. He was the only thing holding the ABB together, there’ll be fission in the group and there’ll be fights. I think we could be able to use the chaos to steal some of their drugs and resell it.”

“We don’t sell drugs,” said Manuel, his voice hard. “We do our best to make sure they’re not in the streets.”

“I thought we might make an exception,” said Kimiko. “But it’s not my place anyway. I only deal with information.”

“I don’t like it,” I said. “Things became better after the Merchants were gone. Drugs are still being sold, but it’s not as bad as before. I don’t want us to go back to that.”

“I might have something else,” said Manuel. “It was going to be altruistic, but maybe we can get a buck out of it. Medhall has a batch that it’s going to truck to Boston tomorrow. My teams already scouted the location and we’re going to take some of them tonight.”

Joanna frowned. “Why attack Medhall?” Joanna asked. “It’s the second most profitable business in the Bay.”

“Kaiser and Krieg run it,” said Kimiko.

“Fuck, really?” Joanna said. “But they employ people of colour.”

“Just enough that it doesn’t set off any alarms,” said Kimiko. “But most of them are in low paying positions. They’ve also been offloading costs by selling at high cost to hospitals in minority areas.”

“He deserves this shit,” said Manuel.

“If that’s the case, why don’t we burn him?” Joanna asked.

“Because it’s still the second most profitable business in the Bay,” said Kimiko, “and it employs a lot of people. We have to make sure we don’t cause more damage with the help we make. Though there are avenues moving forward.”

“Does it have anything to do with Theo Anders?” Joanna asked.

I smiled at that. Joanna wasn’t the oldest member, but she’d been part of the order long enough to draw connections quickly. It felt good to know I’d made the right choice in raising her up the ranks.

“Hopefully,” said Klara. “But we’re doing work to make sure that that settles cleanly.”

Joanna nodded.

“I think that’s it for the meeting,” I said. “We’ll have to be careful from this point onward. Anything we do has to be done right or we’ll be found out.”

Nods were shared and we broke apart.

“Manuel,” I said. “Stay for a bit.” The others left, going the same direction before they’d split off. “I’ll be tagging along on your mission.”

“Figured as much,” he said. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Well, more than usual.”

I shrugged. “I’ll roll by this evening. I’ve got work stuff to do.”

“Sure,” he said.

***

_“This is a good day for Brockton Bay as a whole,” _said Battery standing in front of a horde of reporters. She was second in command of the Protectorate, though there were rumours online that she was the one who really ran things and Dauntless was the face. _“Lung has been a mainstay for a while, so powerful that he was hard to budge. But through the work of our talented heroes, Dauntless and Chariot, who managed to keep him occupied, and Munsin who continues to be a boon when it comes to deployment. We were able to successfully apprehend him.” _

It was early evening, though the sun was still out and I was at the bus stop watching the stream on my phone. There were people around me, all a little haggard as they waited for a bus home. The crowd was a little too large, clustered together, with conversations shared amongst some. Most of the people here lived in the Lower Bay, but since jobs were mainly clustered around Downtown and the North End, they had long commutes.

There were two busses that travelled the route this time of day, but both of them would be filled to bursting.

One of the strongest memories I had, and one that had shown me that it was better to work outside of the system than within, were all the times Dad had told me about going to Mayor Stansfield to get the Ferry fixed, hearing that he’d have to look at budgets and doing nothing about it until Dad got another meeting at which point he’d be told that there wasn’t a lot he could do.

Mayor Christner was a good man and would have been a good mayor in a better time. Looking at his tenure, it was easy to see that he’d made sure that a sinking ship didn’t have any further degradation. Which was _good _sure, but it did nothing to fix the sinking ship.

Which was why Harry’s unit had already started work on the mayoral election next year.

The bus arrived and people rushed in. I used the chaos to get in and chose to stand instead of taking a seat. My stranger power wouldn’t work if I was sitting. Sophia had left work a while ago, done with her shift, which meant she could tail me if she wanted to. I had to make sure that I used a bit of stealth if I wanted to meet with the others.

The ride was cramped and uncomfortable, and the bus lurched to stops and shuddered to runs. I didn’t usually take the bus which meant I didn’t regularly have to bear this, but I made a mental note to ask the others if we could get in on being a bus company. A lot of them were cash business and maybe we could use that to clean more money. Though that would probably need a lot of starting capital and we’d have to work with the city which increased the red tape we’d have to wade through.

I got off the main road and, after a glance around, went into the Aegis Youth Centre. With it being summer, a lot of the neighbourhood’s kids were around. Aegis had campaigned for this place after Vista’s death and the Mayor’s March incident. There had been a lot of unrest shortly after and the police had responded by being harsher on people. Aegis had stepped in, saying that community development was better than arrest and that young people needed activities to occupy their time instead of the gang route which had started to see an upsurge with the arrival of the Brotherhood.

The Lower Bay was a big area and this was only one community centre, but a lot of young people were using it. There were free martial arts and dance classes, ballroom and urban; there was a basketball court and talk of a tennis court being put up at the back; there was a church and a mosque, with priests that worked here full time; and there was a little library filled with the latest books.

Manuel worked here as the basketball couch in his free time, and I found him watching a team of girls as they played, the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor reverberating. There were a few people watching, most teens though I saw a few adults.

I found a place in the bleachers and watched.

Manuel was his usual cool self, walking around the court with a look of consternation on his face. He shouted sometimes, a name and a short order before he kept moving.

The match ended shortly after, but Manuel’s job wasn’t done. He talked to the girls and then ushered them off. He spotted me but didn’t move to meet me, there were a whole lot of other people he had to talk to as part of his job. One I recognised from TV, but I couldn’t be sure where.

“Hello, boss lady,” a guy said as he came to sit next to me. I flicked my vision state and he appeared white against my sight. He was part of the order, though I didn’t know his name.

He was a black guy, buff in the way that showed he worked out without putting too much effort in it. His hair was cut short, with two lines one longer than the other stretching just above his ears.

I nodded.

“Manuel said to be on the lookout,” he said. He had a thick accent, African, though I didn’t have the prowess to tell which parts of Africa. “I’m Ade,” he said, his hand extended.

I took it. “Have we met before?” I asked.

“No. But I’ve seen you,” he said. He tapped his eyes. “You’re very bright in our eyes. I thought it would be strange if I disturbed you. You were grocery shopping.”

I nodded and looked down. “How long does Manuel usually take?” I asked.

“Not long,” he said. “But he will take longer today. He’s talking to a scout who’s interested in one of the boys.”

“That’s good,” I said.

Ade nodded. “If he gets picked more kids will come to the centre,” he said. “Maybe more sports programs can be started in the Bay. It’s surprising how few are here.”

“People have other problems,” I said. “Sport just doesn’t matter all that much.”

“Sports is a good distraction,” he said. “I…”

I glanced back. My eyes quickly found the reason Ade had paused and why a hubbub had started. Aegis, dressed in costume, had just flown through the doors. He flew higher and looked around, found the person he was looking for and drifted down. It was a woman in her early forties, dressed in casual clothes. The woman sat beside a man who was dressed formally.

“Does that happen a lot?” I asked. “I know Aegis’ name is on the building, but…”

“He watches matches sometimes,” said Ade. “It boosts ticket sales because no one knows if he’ll come to one match so they always try to buy them.”

“Huh,” I said and I watched him as a part of me thought about Sophia and the fact that she was Shadow Stalker. I still didn’t know all she knew and I wasn’t sure of her plans. Which meant this could be a part of it. “Who’s he talking to?”

“Benita Perez,” said Ade. “She runs this place, makes sure it has money and it goes to the right places.”

“Do we have anything on her?” I asked.

“She’s restricted,” said Ade.

I gave him a glance. “What does that mean?” I asked with a frown.

“You’ll have to ask the boss for that,” he said with a shrug. “I just know we’re not supposed to get close to her or her family.”

I nodded and kept watching as Aegis talked to the woman and her companion. He smiled and looked around, then flew towards a crowd for pictures. All without a glance in my direction. I wasn’t sure if it was suspicious or not.

Manuel returned a bit later, glanced in Aegis’ direction and then came towards us. He was stopped three times before he finally reached us.

“Boss,” said Ade.

“She’s the boss,” said Manuel with his easy voice. He took me in before he turned to look at Aegis. “I’m getting the feeling that you’re supremely suspicious right now.”

I shrugged. “Is there something to worry about?” I asked.

“Not likely,” he said.

“What about the restricted thing?”

Manuel looked at Ade. “I didn’t know we were supposed to hide it,” he said quickly.

Manuel sighed. “It’s personal,” he said. “She’s clean in all the ways that matter. Kimiko looked at her personally and she knows. I just want to make sure the not important parts people would focus on don’t become a _thing.__” _

“I trust you,” I said. I stood and stretched a little. My eyes found Aegis again and this time he had his eyes on us.

“Let’s head out,” he said.

We went out back where the staff parked their cars. Manual had a large pickup, not necessarily new, but just polished which gave the beast a sheen. It made me feel a yearning to finally buy my own car, but there were still Feds looking for any cash cleaning operations and we didn’t want to do anything obvious. Though at this point I was starting to think about having a car bought for me, but that could get them looked into too.

I got in the back while Manuel and Ade were up front, we drove mostly in silence as we wove deeper into the Lower Bay until we reached an old factory which stood only as a husk. Dishevelled though it was, there were a lot of places that could be used to learn parkour and it had been one of the great finds at the start of our order. The place had been fixed up since the early days, but it wasn’t intuitive. Its function as a place to learn parkour had been exaggerated while safety had been pushed to the wayside. We had to move through the course, drop down deep underground before we reached the others.

Since I’d taken some of their people, the Prowlers now had ten people in all and eight were already waiting for us as we arrived. They had rolls of paper out in front of them and a woman in her twenties went through the plan.

She stopped as we dropped in.

“Mannie,” she said. “You’re late…and the Big Boss is with you.”

“Had some stuff to do,” he said with a shrug. He walked forward and stood beside her. He touched a roll and unfolded it. I got closer but made sure I was out of the way and I saw floor plans. “How’s the planning been going?”

“We’re missing a few people and there’ll be slack to pull, but everything’s on track,” the woman said. I took a breath and thought back to all the files I’d seen until her name popped into my head. Jennica Grey, Manuel’s second in command. She was a head shorter, a bit hefty but still in shape. She had relatively short hair done up in an afro. “Everything going well, we won’t even have to fire a gun.”

Manuel sighed but he nodded. He stood straight and stared down his troops. They all stood straighter for it.

“You all know how I feel,” he said. “We do this because we have to, not because we want to or we think people deserve to be hurt or killed. Had I any other way, I would make sure we didn’t even have our guns, but we can’t take the chance. So I’m saying use your best judgement, keep a cool head. If it comes down to it, you can kill, but it must be the _last _possible option. We all know someone who was killed by cops for doing nothing and even if we’re trying to make this city fair for everyone who lives in it, we’re not trying to be like them.”

Eyes and jaws set, there were some who gave little nods as their shoulders squared.

Manuel let out a breath. “Let’s go over the plan five more times before we head out,” he said. “Jen.”

Jennica nodded. “Medhall is secure,” she started. “Only three entrances, one for delivery, one for exits and the last for general access. Both of them will be guarded at this time of night, but we have some people that’ll keep them from getting the word out. They won’t be a problem, but there’s a security desk inside the facility hooked up to cameras all around the building and maybe with a way to get a message out. We’re going to have to split into two units, the drivers who’ll come in with delivery vans and the infiltration unit who’ll get the tinker EMP into the facility so we can turn off their lights. They’ll deal with the guards inside, make sure they don’t get any calls out through any other means, while we’ll go in and load up. We’ll have the Handlers waiting in case things go tits up. We’ll start…”

She went on, detailing the team which would go infiltrate and how they would go about it, where there were blind spots from cameras and where they could get into the building. Because of the people I’d moved out of the Daredevils, there were empty slots to be filled and I was better than the alternative, which meant I would be part of the infiltration team.

All things going well, we’d be in and out within the hour.

They repeated the plan four more times, which I felt was going overboard, but everything I saw said that was how things usually went.

“That’s it,” said Jennica. “We do this good and there won’t be any trouble. Remember who we’re doing this for. Neighbours with diabetes who don’t have insulin, all the families that kept turned away from the places in the Lower Bay because they don’t have medical insurance. We can’t fail.”

“Let’s roll out,” said Manuel.

***

The Medhall factory lay north-west of the Lower Bay, a medium-sized facility which was connected to Brockton Bay proper with one road. Most of it was surrounded by forestry, a tangled mess of trees so closely clumped together they could be hard to pass through in a given area. The place was protected by an electrified fence, with cameras in positioned near the perimeter and along the road so incoming cars could be spotted.

A _lot _of work had been put into the mission, and though there’d been another go of planning when Manuel, Ade and I had arrived at the Daredevil’s base, it was really so to confirm the parameters of the mission than any real strategic session.

It all made me feel an outsider to be a part of it, especially to be with the group that whose job was most important. But I needed the distraction from everything else going on.

The mission started at midnight. The infiltration team was four men strong: Manuel, Ade, a guy called Sanjay and me. All of us were dressed in black, strapped with a pistol, throwing knives and a few smoke grenades. We weren’t wearing a lot because speed was the most important factor as a Daredevil, though the items we wore maximised on protection.

The mission started with a hike up to Medhall. Manuel set the pace and I kept up easily with it because of the combination of my minor brute power and training, and I saw that Ade and Sanjay kept up with a similar ease.

We reached the fence and Manuel, who had a thin backpack stuck against his back, reached in and pulled out rubber gloves and small pliers before he started to cut through the electrified fence. It took less than a minute before the task was done and he bent the fence so there was room for us to move through.

Medhall had three gates. One used for deliveries, another for goods to leave the grounds and the last a general access. Security around the general access gate was the laxest, but even there, there were two guards who monitored feed of the cameras most important to them. Each set of guards had these, but there were also guards inside the facility whose feed was for the entire building.

Above the guards who monitored feeds, there were also guards who moved through the grounds on patrols.

On the other side of the fence was a good stretch of grass before a blocky building with a single door. There weren’t cameras on the grounds, but there was a camera over the door. A camera that wasn’t working, broken by one of the Prowlers working at Medhall and set to be fixed next week.

We kept low and ran in a line towards the door. Manuel reached it and pressed an eight-digit sequence before he pulled. The door opened and we were in. I had a second to see a wide, white hall with blue doors before Manuel pulled out a cylinder the size of a thin glass and a button at the top. He pressed the button and the lights flicked off.

The bomb had been built by an up and coming tinker in Portsmouth. Apparently one of Harry’s people was related to the kid and we were building him up in a place with a calmer cape scene so we could have a tinker working for us down the line.

I flicked on my sight and the darkness lessened.

Manuel led the way forward to the security desk. The guards were investigating from the looks of it, visible through beams from their flashlights.

They were quick and easy work. Manuel threw one of his knives against the floor.

“…something,” I heard the guard say, likely into a walkie-talkie which had escaped the effects of the EMP. The man continued slowly forward, his flashlight roving. We were crouched low, Sanjay and me to one side, and Manuel and Ade at the other.

The guard entered the hall and spotted Manuel. He grabbed for his stun gun but Sanjay came up, short and willowy, and slapped one hand over the man’s face while the other stabbed in in the neck with a tranquiliser. The man folded.

“More will be coming,” Manuel whispered.

“I’ll catch up,” said Sanjay as he pulled zip ties out of his utility back. The three of us continued towards the guards’ station.

There were supposed to be a dozen guards in all, but we were only met by nine. Ade threw a smoke grenade and we moved into the din. I was the fastest and reached them first. I kicked one so he slammed into the others, while another I grabbed and stabbed with a needle. Manuel and Ade quickly followed and all nine of the guards were taken down.

We got to the guards’ station were the last were out, stun guns pointed towards the door. Another smoke grenade went off. They shot their stun guns and missed. We moved in and took them out.

“Easy,” said Ade as we left.

“You just had to go and jinx it, didn’t you?” Sanjay said, his voice was naturally high and it seemed higher after the burst of otherwise dull activity.

“Let’s get to the others so we can finish this quickly,” said Manuel, his voice harder than it usually was.

We ran through the facility and quickly reached the docking bay where the others were already working in darkness to stock boxes into three trucks. Most of it was done by hand, but a few people could operate the forklifts and they drove them around to move more.

Fifteen, thirty and then forty-five minutes passed before the trucks were filled. Unlike the trip coming here, the back of the trucks were full and it was uncomfortable to be standing there, but as we drove out of the gates, headlights off and the drivers’ sight on, I felt a well of achievement for a mission well done.

Which was the kind of thing I shouldn’t have thought because a moment later our truck lurched to a stop.

I went for my gun on instinct. I wasn’t the only one.

People nearest the door pushed them open and peeked out. I didn’t need to do the same to know who was out there. There weren’t a lot of lights in the stretch of road, not until we were closer to the Bay, and for one to be out there, one so bright, when we were hitting _Kaiser__’s _place of business. It could only be one person.

“I’ve already called the police!” said a voice. I’d heard New Wave on TV appearances and this wasn’t anyone of them, which meant I was right and it was Purity. “Stand down and there won’t be trouble.”

Everyone, I noted, had turned to me.

My power to teleport people to me had something of a list of priorities when it related to how the call could be made by others. At the topmost level, my level, I could call anyone I wanted, and the people a level below could call people who were a level lower, though they couldn’t call people on their level.

Which made me the most important because I could keep the Den Masters from being arrested. Because as important as I was, the only true good I had done in all this was give everyone powers to enable them to work. _They _were the ones who pulled the organisation together.

Everyone in the order knew and it was SOP that if I was a part of a mission, then I should be protected by all means.

Mission priority right now, even though the medical supplies would have done a lot of good, would be to get me out of here as soon as possible. I knew how this would play out because we’d talked about it, that this wasn’t a game to us, it wasn’t cops and robbers, and when we played, we played for keeps.

A shot rang through the air. The light from Purity flickered before I heard metal tear and tires squeal.

We all moved as one, exiting the truck with guns drawn.

I spotted a flare of light as Purity shot a beam. It spiralled down and slammed into a second truck. The truck’s back lurched up and the boxes we’d piled in the back were thrown against the road. In the din I spotted a figure in white, one of my assassins, as they were thrown and landed hard. 

I wanted to devote some of my attention in their direction, but I couldn’t. Much as Purity was a danger, she wasn’t the only one. She had a team, the Pure, and on her side were Scribe, Night and Fog.

A thick sheet of metal hung in the air, weapon and barrier both. Scribe was hidden behind the barrier and so were Purity and Night. Fog, I could see, had become a cloud as tall as I was, so thick it was hard to see through, and slowly moving towards our group.

Two truck had been hit and both of them, from the looks of it, wouldn’t be able to be driven away. If we made it out of this, it would have to be on foot.

I knew all of their powers because even if we weren’t supposed to go after capes, in our line of work we had to be prepared for the eventuality that we might: Scribe could move stuff telekinetically after a moment of touching it; Night turned into a monster that was fast and tough when she wasn’t being looked at; Fog turned into a mist he could make semi-solid; and Purity could fly and shoot out beams that could tear through buildings.

Purity was afraid and hiding, but I was sure the moment we chose to run, they’d be on us. It would be much easier because Night was a part of the group and her power activated when she wasn’t being looked at. We’d have to make sure that we took her out first, thankfully most of her tricks wouldn’t work.

I searched for Manuel and found him, knelt near the front of a truck with _knives _instead of a gun. A bit of light flared as Manuel called one of the Handlers, but it was hidden from the Pure by the truck’s cover. I did the same thing. I was further away from them and I called in Ammar’s forces three at a time.

A woman dropped from behind Scribe’s platform and shots rang out. She was hit by a few bullets and she fell hard. My sight cut through Fog like he wasn’t there and I could still see her, which meant her power didn’t kick in. She was still alive, but clearly hurt.

Gun up, breathe, squeeze—

Scribe’s platform rushed forward at speed and slammed into Manuel’s truck. It lurched to the side and bumped into people who were too slow to move. Thankfully the brute power, as small as it was, was enough that they landed in rolls and came up with guns and knives pointed. Purity flared with light and flew back, likely banking on it blinding us, and it didn’t work. Guns went off and a bullet caught her leg and side.

She fired towards our truck and we had to move as the beam cut through the back, into some of the cannisters at the back and started a fire.

A scream reverberated and I looked just in time to see three people spin through the air, hit by something fast. _Night._ We’d been too focused on Purity and distracted by Rune that her power had activated.

I couldn’t focus for too long, as I was forced to run and dodge. Another of Purity’s blast ripped through the rest of our truck and carved a deep indent in the road inches from where I’d been. We moved to another truck for cover.

A flash grenade went off, but it was answered by the rattling of semi-automatic gunfire. I spotted as Night fell to the ground, her costume covered in blood and her chest unmoving. The truck we were running towards rose into the air and we scrambled. Purity fired a beam to cut us but it flickered out as a frag grenade went off and forced Scribe to cover her.

I spotted the girl and shot three time. Two missed and one landed, I saw as she stumbled back and then flicked her hand. Her truck hurtled towards stragglers and I _pulled. _

My mover power had something of a recharge. I had to wait ten minutes after before I could use it again on the same person, which meant I had to make it count. It would have been smarter to run and then pull everyone from my location, but in the moment, I acted on instinct.

The five who were close to being bowled over by the truck broke apart into slabs of white. The process was slow, by while being pulled they were momentarily intangible and the truck moved through them.

“You have to run,” said Ammar. A pop went off from the truck on fire, and light flared. Fog’s mist seeped up from under the last truck we used as cover. “We can’t lose you.”

I swallowed and nodded.

The tree line was so close, Purity and Scribe were still a factor even if we’d shot them. 

“We need to scatter,” I said and the command passed through my people. It was a sacrifice, some may get shot, but it was a necessary sacrifice. I was the key to powers and without me, we’d have less ability to act, especially in a world of parahumans.

Scribe swung the truck again and it crashed into our cover. One man was caught by the lurch of the truck and he fell into Fog’s mist. He broke apart into slabs of light before Fog could roll all over him. 

Recharges would be longer for Manuel, were it was ten minutes for me, it would be twenty for him. Not that that was what really mattered. No, what did was the fact that we’d been forced to use our powers out in the open. We’d feared this would be the case with the Undersiders and been lucky when they’d kept quiet, but now it was unavoidable.

Soon everyone would know we had powers and we would be a Protectorate problem. Which wouldn’t be so easily to deal with.

But that was a problem for the future.

A series of smoke grenades were thrown and that was the covered needed. Ammar’s people had more fire power and they filled the air to make sure Purity and Scribe didn’t get out from behind cover. Everyone took off in different directions, all headed towards the tree line.

Light flared as Purity blasted _through _her cover and I wasn’t sure if anyone was hit, but I couldn’t make sure.

Road turned to soft dirt and I readjusted before getting into the trees. I stowed my gun and focused on running, tearing through trees and never glancing back. I spotted a white form in the distance, one of my assassins, but I didn’t go to regroup because there was less of a chance of us being found if we were split apart.

I kept running, a knot in my stomach and my mind running.

***

Two hours of running and I finally broke through a cluster of trees to land in a backyard in what I assumed was the Lower Bay. It was near three in the morning and I was dressed all in black, strapped with a gun and weapons, and all round I looked _suspicious. _

I was tired and sweaty, my heart pounding hard against my chest and my lungs burning. I swallowed and it was hard to do, with my mouth too dry. All of it was distracting but I fell back on my training. I got my breaths under control first and then scanned to make sure that there wasn’t anyone around to call the cops.

It was at least four in the morning, I was sure and most would be asleep, which would make it easier to move, but the moment I was spotted either by some patrolling cops or a hero flying overhead, there’d be trouble. I pulled off my mask and stuck close to houses, moving through a backyard to get into the street beyond.

I was in the nicer areas of the Lower Bay, houses with well-manicured lawns and picketed fences. Which gave me a sense of how I had to move to get to an area where there would be more activity.

I took off in a light jog.

The impulse hung heavy in my mind to call any of the others I’d been travelling with, but that needed to be done carefully. The relationship with the Pure and the Protectorate was iffy, but if the cops had been called, the PRT would turn up, and their modus operandi when dealing with people who could teleport was getting a tinker strap that would track the person’s location. We’d need to prepare for that before we pulled the others out.

My run down the suburban streets of the Lower Bay were uneventful. The houses steadily got smaller and the lawns disappeared as properties with squeezed closer together. I finally broke out of suburbia and reached a row of tall apartments where, even at this time of night, there were people out. I did my best to keep out of the way while scanning for a cluster of activity. Finally a found a club that was still open and I went in.

The place was packed and stealing a phone was easy.

It was locked, of course, but one of my powers was the ability to look into the past of anyone I’d tagged for a few seconds. It was the reason stealing information could be so easy for us, because it often meant tagging someone, then going to their computer and waiting until a ghostly image formed and pressed the keys of their password.

I tagged the man I’d stolen the phone from which turned him red against my sight. I stared at the phone and waited, a ghostly hand appeared and pressed a six-digit code.

I did the same and the phone unlocked.

I called.

Someone picked up but didn’t say anything.

“Taylor,” I said. “Ozymandias-Three-Three-Danny-Ogun-Lighthouse-Sigma.”

_“Good,” _a woman’s voice said with a breath of relief. I heard a swallow. _“You’re okay?”_

“Yeah. I had to steal a phone and I don’t know how anyone else is doing,” I said. “I’m in the Lower Bay, at the Crystal Cloud. I’ll need a pickup and a change of clothes.”

_“We’ll be there within the hour,” _said the voice. One I couldn’t identify with how on edge I felt.

I went back into the club and picked more pockets. I got enough money that I could buy myself something to drink. I didn’t like drinking but I needed something to work off the nerves. I bought beer and it was too bitter. I decided that it wasn’t worth it and just waited.

It wasn’t any of the Den Master who came to pick me up. I hadn’t flicked off my sight since the battle with the Pure and I spotted my people as they came in dressed in civvies. It didn’t take a lot for them to see me and we met near the bathroom. Two girls and one guy.

“Ma’am,” said the guy. “Damien Atkins from the Rioters. These are Amber and Quy.”

“Ma’am,” said Quy. Amber flashed me a shy smile.

I nodded. “Clothes?” I was handed a bag.

Amber and Quy came with me into the bathroom, cramped and stinking of piss, to change. It was quick work before I was done and we were in the car. 

“Do you know what’s been going on?” I asked.

“Some of our people were arrested,” said Quy. “And the secret is finally out that we’re capes.”

I let out a sigh. I ran the numbers. Manuel and Ammar had both had their teams there, and between how violent the fight with the Pure had turned out, I was sure there were some of our people dead, if we lost all of them, then it would be sixteen people lost.

We’d been slow at recruitment because we hadn’t wanted to ping any thinkers, but that worked against us now, because sixteen people was about twenty percent of our total number.

“How many people have reported back?” I asked.

“Seven people called for pick up,” said Damien. “Master Ammar is one of them. We hadn’t heard anything about Master Manuel before we got back.”

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _

But I could get them back as long as they weren’t dead, and the last time I’d seen them, they hadn’t been. I took a few breaths to calm me down but it didn’t work too well.

“Have the other Den Master been called? Do they know?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Damien. “Once we get you to the safe house, you’ll be able to talk to them.”

“They’re meeting,” I said, a little incredulous. Maybe it was everything that had happened, the fact that I was still on edge, but that seemed monumentally stupid, especially with everything that was still _odd _about everything.

We’d gone two years in relative secrecy, but in less than a month we’d had to fight two capes, then there was Sophia and whatever she was about. Maybe it was undue paranoia, but everything together didn’t put me at ease.

“No, Ma’am,” said Damien. “We’ll give you a secure line at the safehouse.”

“Good,” I said. “Good.”

We drove for a few more minutes before we reached the safehouse. I got in and was led to the phone where a conference call was already in progress.

“Give me the rundown,” I said, cutting through the active conversation.

_“We’ve gotten a few calls from people that have been arrested,” _said Kimiko. _“The PRT and Protectorate are now officially involved and we’re no longer under the purview of the police or the FBI.” _

“The secret is out,” I said.

_“Yes,” _said Kimiko. _“We’re now a cape gang and if we want to make sure we’re not gutted the next time we meet other capes, we need to play things safely.” _

“Please tell me there are contingencies,” I said.

_“There are,”_ she said. _“We’ll have to put up a face while we keep our real operations hidden. We’ll have to be louder as a distraction, which puts more people at risk.” _

_“Me, Ammar and Max will be the most important to this,” _said Alphonso. _“We’ll be a gang just like the others, eat at the same table so to speak, while the more insidious Dens do their work. I have volunteered to lead so that people think I am the one giving everyone powers.”_

“The Undersiders,” I said.

_“We’ll have to push faster so they’re dealt with,” _said Max. _“Maybe we can even take them out ourselves now. We need to make sure the secret about you isn’t known by anyone. The only people who do right now are the Undersiders and that makes them _very _dangerous to us.__” _

“Okay,” I said. “I’m giving my go-ahead. We end the Undersiders. What about Watchdog?” I asked. “That was always a worry and now it might come true.”

_“They’ll make things harder, but not impossible,” _said Harry. _“The Bay will just be a lot like Vegas from now one. With an underbelly most don’t notice. It _is _doable. It__’s going to be fucking hard, but we’ve done good work and we’ll continue doing it.” _

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s work things out. I want us to get our people out as quickly as possible, deal with problems as quickly as possible. As long as we’re playing cops and robbers, we can’t change this city for the better.”

I listened, mostly silent, as the other Den Masters went over our plans for the future.


End file.
